Unintended Consequences
by Mashadar
Summary: Shinji Ikari. A person with a past that we all know very well. Filled with nothing but empty survival. Was it? Perhaps not. Chance is a very fickle mistress.
1. 00: Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Evangelion or any of its characters. GAINAX does. So put those lawsuits down and we can talk

"Dialogue"

[Thoughts]

**Unintended Consequences 00: The Beginning of The End**

_The scourges passed, and the world shrinks,_

_There will be peace for a time,_

_One will travel safely by air, land and through the sea and waves,_

_And the First Messenger will be found,_

_The seekers will awaken him,_

_Seeking knowledge that which is beyond their ken,_

_And the Messenger's awakening cry will be heard,_

_Will roll end over end, sinking great nations,_

_Bringing blood, plague, hunger, fire and maddening thirst,_

_And with his cry, the Messiahs will arrive,_

_Untainted, pure and innocent,_

_There will be not one, but three Messiahs,_

_The Messiah of the past,_

_Young in body but ancient in soul,_

_The Messiah of the present,_

_Fiery in body and spirit,_

_The Messiah of the future,_

_Fractured in soul but purest of the three,_

_Guard well the Messiahs,_

_For they hold the keys to the future,_

_Only they will decide,_

_The fate that mankind will receive,_

_Destruction eternal,_

_Or salvation._

Excerpt from the Dead Sea scrolls. 51st stanza

XXXXX

GEHRIN Genesis Research Center, Secondary Control Center

September 20th 2005, 11:35 AM

Research centers are generally not places where one would expect to find young children wandering about unsupervised. This was even more so for the GEHRIN Genesis Research Center where controversial research took place and secrets were kept with deadly seriousness. And yet, a 4 year old boy with brown hair and cobalt eyes freely wandered within the room, his eyes taking in sights never meant for the outside world. He would have continued in his explorations had he not accidentally bumped into an elderly man dressed in a white coat that depicted his position as one of the scientists within the facility.

Surprise flashed across Kouzou Fuyutsuki's face as he blinked, not quite sure if his eyes were telling him the truth and his mind was playing tricks on him. [What are you doing here?]. He was about to voice his unspoken question had he not been interrupted by the appearance of a woman in her late 20s wearing a lab coat, waving towards the child.

"There you are Shinji-chan! I've been looking for you; don't wander off without mother anymore ok?" her voice taking on an admonishing tone as she hugged the boy close.

Oblivious to the questioning gaze the elderly researcher was directing towards the woman, the child responded, his face unabashed at the admonition. "Hai mother, I was just looking."

"What is he doing here Yui? You know this is not the place for young children, especially more so with the coming experiment." The elderly researcher tried to put as much severity into his voice as possible but only succeeded in sounding exasperated.

"I'm sorry Fuyutsuki-sensei but I wanted to show my son the future that we are building here. And besides, the babysitter called in sick today and our neighbors are on vacation so I couldn't leave him alone in the house." She replied, her tone taking on the whimsical pleading tone that she knew he could not resist.

Knowing that the battle was lost, he sighed. "Since when have I been able to deny you anything? Just make sure he doesn't disturb anyone alright?"

She smiled. "Don't worry sensei, I won't let him get into any trouble"

XXXXX

To the researchers clustered around the observation box, this was the moment of truth. Resting in its hanger, stood a purple behemoth known to them as the test type Evangelion Unit-01. Restrained by various bolts and gantries, it awaited its pilot and its maiden activation. Among the viewers who stood in the observation box was the same brown haired child. Waving to his mother on the other side of the observation glass as she strode on the gantry towards Unit-01 clad in a form fitting plug suit. Turning around to face her child, she waved in return as she entered the entry plug. Almost immediately, the hatch closed, sealing the woman inside as the plug was lifted into the air and inserted into the back of the behemoth's neck. It was at that point where the hubbub of the technicians rose in volume as they began reporting the status of the experiment.

"Plug lock in procedure complete. Initiating first level interface, flooding entry plug."

"Main power connected! All circuits fully functional! Initiating power up sequence!"

"A10 synapses operating within normal limits! First contact all clear! Now opening reciprocal circuits!"

"Now passing borderline circuit in 3...2...1. Borderline circuit passed. The unit is now active."

Cheers erupted at this announcement. Some of the gathered researchers shook hands while others patted their colleagues on the back. This happy mood was not shared by one technician though, who noticed with increasing alarm that one of his readings were climbing exponentially without signs of stabilizing.

XXXXX

As LCL flooded the entry plug, Yui felt her stomach turn. Even though she had grown accustomed to the coppery smelling liquid during her days in the immersion tanks, she had never been able to suppress the nausea whenever she smelled or tasted it. A slight smile graced her features. [Shinji, you may not understand now, but perhaps one day you will. Please...... be strong.]

As the final connections were made, the liquid seemingly vanished in a burst of color. Placing a hand on the plug walls, her face gentle, Yui whispered, her voice so soft that the audio pickups embedded in the plug registered nothing. "Good morning young one. Together, let us protect humanity and give them a bright future." Almost at once a strong sensation of hollowness, longing and need overwhelmed her senses, so strong, that she could feel herself being drawn into that infinite emptiness. Gasping slightly at the mental assault, she braced herself for what she knew would come.

As her sense of self began to erode, she held onto the image of her smiling child. [I will protect you Shinji ...always.]

XXXXX

Back up in the observation deck, panic reigned among the staff. Orders were snapped out and hands raced across consoles in their haste to follow.

"Suspend all contacts! Close circuits 04 to 25!"

"Signal rejected! It's not working! Contact with the entry plug has been lost"

"Abort test! Cut power!"

A smash of glass, a button pressed, and with a roar of explosive pins, an oversized plug was ejected from the back of the EVA unit.

"The unit has switched to emergency power! 26 seconds until battery failure!"

"Cathexis, Destrado, have gone through the safety limit. The signal is not stabilizing!"

"Emergency eject of the plug!"

"It's not working! The plug is rejecting all signals! Attempting to......wait! Synchronization levels have dropped to 0%! All activity within the unit has come to a complete halt!"

"Entry plug communications protocols now reinitializing... reestablishing contact with entry pl... oh....Kami-sama!!"

As the visual data was transmitted to the overhead monitors, the staff fell into a shocked silence. Displayed among the monitors was the cockpit of the entry plug where not more than 4 minutes ago, a young woman had entered with a cheery wave, except this time, there was no woman, only her empty plug suit floating within the LCL filled plug. The only exception to the silence was the tear filled voice of a frightened child, asking for his mother, begging for her return.

XXXXX

Osaka Central Train station, 8 days later

Farewells are not uncommon at train stations where friends, family and colleagues would bid farewell to their loved ones and associates. However, this particular farewell between the father and tearful son was unlike any that the passerby's had ever witnessed.

"Go to the Hokage family home. You know how to get there; they will take care of you now." The short clipped instructions were delivered by the bearded man with no emotion, bare of any inflection that made it human. Finished with his message, he turned his back and began walking to the waiting train.

Flinching slightly at the cold tone the boy looked at his father, anger temporarily supplanting the grief on his face, "Why are you leaving father? Why are you going away?" His hand began to clench and relax itself. [Why are you leaving me?]

No answer came forth from the man as the boy continued to question his retreating back. None came until he was seated within a private room on the train as it accelerated away from the station. Even then, the answer was only heard in the echoes of his mind. [You may yet serve my purposes boy, but until then, I have no need of useless things.]

XXXXX

Hokage Family Residence, Miyagi Prefecture, April 17th 2008

As far as guest rooms went in the Hokage Home, it was sparsely furnished. A bed, a closet and little else graced the cramped room but the 7 year old child didn't mind. He had long since adjusted to the cramped quarters and he didn't have that many possessions to take up room anyway. The only real possession he had aside from the clothes he wore was his mother's SDAT player, a relic of happier times. He often questioned himself on why he kept it. It represented the pain of loss he had felt nearly 3 years ago. And yet it was his only link to her. No pictures had remained after the funeral, whether thrown away or destroyed, he did not know. Every time he listened to the haunting classical melodies recorded on the machine, he felt calm, soothed. As if the music itself could take him away, back through the years, to happier times. Times where pain and loneliness were only words, not the daily experience he faced every time he woke up.

Mostly ignored by his foster family, he had begun taking cello lessons in school, immersing himself in the music for hours, letting the melody soothe his mind. [Father....its been so long since I've seen you, why did you leave me behind? Was......was I unwanted?]

"Shinji! Come on out to the back of the house, we want to show you something."

Broken from his brooding by the voice of his 'uncle', Shinji rose from his bed, puzzled at the unexpected call. None of the Hokage family ever talked to him unless it was absolutely necessary. He wasn't kept worried long as he was met them at the back of the house.

"Shinji, take a look over there."

Following his uncle's pointed finger, Shinji noticed a peculiar structure out among the trees. Slightly larger than a shed, it had windows and apparently, curtains as well. He was about to go closer to see inside when his aunt spoke. "You're going to be in junior high next year. We thought you might want your own room so........"

Her smiling husband finished for her. "We built one in the garden just for you". The smile never reached his eyes. "Now you can study without being interrupted."

"Thanks.......thank you uncle, thank you auntie"

Polite words, but to Shinji, they were a matter of rote, mechanical and without feeling. The Hokage's never heard his next whispered words, or the pain they held. "I'll study hard....I'll study by myself."

XXXXX

Osaka Municipal Junior High School, August 18, 2009

For the young children of Osaka, school was a place where social gatherings took place alongside dreary education. They would get together, make friends and learn the social skills that would later help them cope with the world and the problems that 2nd impact had left behind. Occasionally, there would be an introvert who would socialize less and have a small circle, if any at all, of friends. Typically, those friends would be the type who didn't discourage easily and persevered in breaking the introverts out of their shell. In the case of the Nekoma Municipal Junior High School however, there was an exception to the rule. This exception came in the form of an 8 year old boy with brown hair and sad, soulful, cobalt eyes.

Introverted and timid, Shinji's nature would have frustrated a good many would-be friends. The reason why he had no friends at all was that no-one had attempted to understand him in the first place due to his background, or lack thereof. Arriving in Osaka and subsequently abandoned by his father mere minutes later had generated a bizarre curiosity regarding the reasons for his abandonment. Lacking in hard facts, the local community had created a great many speculations; none of them coming close to the truth and all of them judging either parent or child harshly. Shinji had heard a great many of the whispered comments but he no longer shed any tears over it. It was as if he had none left to shed.

Shinji suppressed a sigh as the dismissal bell rang. It was raining again and without an umbrella, he would be drenched. The other students, those with umbrellas or other means of remaining relatively dry, had already departed in a mass exodus, easily ignoring the solitary boy as they had done so for several years. With the music room under renovations, he couldn't wait out the rain by playing the cello either. Lacking any other destination, he decided to make his way home. [Its not like they would care anyway as long as I don't get their things wet.]

Before Shinji had traveled more than a block away from school, he was already drenched to the bone by the increasingly heavy rain, his striped shirt and drawstring shorts thoroughly soaked, his hair plastered to his face. Cold and wet, he decided to take a shortcut along a river, a route he normally avoided due to the refuse and associated smells found along the riverbank. 2nd impact may have come and decimated humanity, but their garbage would always find its way to places they weren't meant to be. Fortunately, the rain managed to keep most of the smell down. He had passed by one pile of discarded furniture under a bridge when something within the heap caught his eye. It was a bicycle, a little battered, but apparently still usable.

[A bicycle, here? Looks like it was thrown away]. Of its own, his hand began reaching towards it. [It would be nice to have one..... but... uncle may disapprove] he stopped himself, his hand inches away from the handlebars. Fear over being disapproved off or rejected warred with the practicality of having a bike. Practicality won and his hand reached out, grasping the bicycle's handlebar and pulling it from the rest of the discarded furniture. [If I keep it out of their way, they probably won't say anything.]

The bicycle proved to be a little too large for his small frame, but Shinji adjusted the seat position and found that his legs could reach the pedals without much trouble. Eager to see how the bicycle would perform, he immediately began riding it around slowly, wanting to get his balance first. Gaining in confidence as he experimented by going in a few small circles, he decided to continue practicing by riding home. He had not gone very far when a cold, authoritative voice stopped him.

"You there, hold it"

Turning around, Shinji found that the owner of that voice was a policeman, apparently on patrol.

"Is that your bike?"

Having no skills at the art of deception and being an honest person, Shinji answered with the truth. "No... but someone had thrown it away under the bridge so I..." He was cut off by the policeman who had smirked upon hearing the first word.

"It's not nice to lie"

"Honest! It's the truth!" Shinji's protestation had little effect as the officer began to advance on the boy

"Is that so?" The smirk grew into a predatory grin "Let's have a talk at the station"

Before he could reach out to the boy, a testy voice cut through the air, freezing the officer in place.

END OF PROLOGUE

XXXXX

A/N: The settings for the prologue were mostly borrowed from the manga and with the exception of the final part, as close to the original as possible. It had occurred to me that only a truly unusual set of circumstances (unless he lived out in the boonies) could have kept young Shinji so isolated that nobody would have tried to reach out to him. The manga helped explain that a bit. That got me thinking. How much would have changed in the show had someone _actually_ gotten a chance to get him out of his shell or at least mature him a bit before arriving in Tokyo-3? That's what this fic is about. 


	2. 01

Disclaimer: Why sue me? Its not like I have the cash to make it worthwhile anyways. If I owned Evangelion though, that would be a different story. But I don't so there.

"Dialogue"

[Thoughts]

[**Subconscious speaking**]

**Unintended Consequences 01: When Chance Intervenes**

1 hour earlier, Miyagi prefecture, Bokuto police department 

In most organizations, arguing with your superior is just a step away from handing in your resignation. Arguing with your superior in front of his subordinates is just another way of begging to be fired. And yet, an argument was going on at full tilt involving a seated officer whose nametag read "Section Chief Nakamura Masato" and a visibly upset, gray haired man dressed in a suit with none of the bloodshed.

"Nakamura, this is a foolish idea. He is simply too rash for this promotion. He'll be an embarrassment to the entire force! In fact, he already is. This will only make him a bigger embarrassment!"

"Look Fujiwara, I know your concerns are valid but he's a dedicated officer at least. No disciplinary problems, no reports of corruption, no complaints for dereliction of duty, nothing! He's even volunteered for extra patrol duties. There's nothing we can actually use to justify denying his promotion. Even if he is rash, he's followed regulations."

This particular statement was received with a raised eyebrow by the gray haired detective as he threw up his hands. "That is exactly the problem! How many times has he brought someone in on the grounds of 'suspicious' activities when it's turned out to be nothing more than a case of paranoia? The regulations just don't cover that area well enough for ambitious hotheads like him! We're lucky that all we've had to do so far is file a few letters of apology for wrongful arrests. If he gets promoted like this, it will go to his head and heaven knows what he will do then."

Nakamura sighed, wishing, as he regularly did every time his superior's directives and detective Fujiwara clashed, that regulations didn't prohibit having alcohol in the premises. "We've been over this before, you know that the Chief Inspector himself has pointed out that we need to begin moving people up the ranks as soon as possible to make up for our current lack. Unless he commits a major mistake, we can do nothing." His face hardened. "You know this as well as I do Fujiwara. Personal opinions aside, this is a directive from high command and it will be carried out. This matter is closed to further discussion and I will not tolerate any attempts to continue it. Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action. Do I make myself clear?"

2nd impact and its aftermath had not been kind to Japan's police force staff rolls. A great many officers had died in the event itself and during the chaos that had followed in its aftermath. Riots, violent crimes and even outright warfare had descended on the formerly peaceful Japan in the first 2 chaos-filled years as people fought among themselves for whatever meager supplies they could scavenge in their shattered cities. Containing the chaos alone had seen many promising officers making the ultimate sacrifice. Martial law was declared and the JSDF was called in. Bloodshed on both sides was immense as the death toll rose. More people died in the fighting that had erupted after 2nd impact than in the actual event itself. Only in the 3rd year after the catastrophe did the country see some semblance of normality being restored, but at great cost. As it was, many of the surviving actual senior staff were nearing retirement age and had to be supplemented with those called out of retirement. Even with the retirees called back, everyone with the experience to accomplish anything more than what a newly trained officer could handle was pulling double shifts.

Despite the heated conversation between the two people, the other people working in the room didn't so much as bat an eyelash. This particular topic was old news to them, and office gossip usually needed something fresh if it was to survive. The only noticeable reaction to this discussion was the stare that a newly inducted officer had directed at them until one of the older officers pulled him aside.

A little nervous about touching sensitive topics, he whispered to the officer. "Uhm Kazuki-san, does this happen all the time?"

Grinning in reply, the older man replied, "Don't worry about it, they may not look it, but those two are rather good friends. It's just that given their different roles, they can't agree on some things." Noticing the puzzled look on the trainee's face, he elaborated. "The higher ups want to promote the first batch of street cops. Their desperate to rebuild so as long as the officers don't go against regulations they don't really care about their performance-" he trailed off, noticing the wide eyed stare of the trainee had shifted focus to settle somewhere just behind his left shoulder.

"If you've finished entertaining the recruit Kazuki, do you mind going back to work?"

Whirling around, Kazuki noticed a rather peeved detective looking at him. "Detective Fujiwara! When did you, uhh, I mean, uhm-Oh would you look at the time, I've got so much paperwork to finish, busy, busy, busy." Kazuki retreated to his desk where he attacked the papers piled there with a fervor that suggested possible termite ancestry, accidentally knocking over a rather large stack in the process.

Looking at the flustered officer who was now trying to make sense of his man-made paper blizzard, Fujiwara sighed. Still seated behind his desk, Nakamura called out to him. "Fujiwara, I know you don't like this and neither do I but there's nothing that can be done about it. You're tired, I'm tired and I really don't want to think about it. Why don't you take the rest of the day off for today? You pulled an all-nighter yesterday didn't you?"

Fujiwara nodded, accepting the cease-fire. If there was one thing that this particular police station was capable of producing regularly, it was mountains of paperwork. He had spent the entire night just trying to finish the various reports that were needed for the last investigation and he couldn't think straight. It was one of the reasons why he had reacted so badly at the news. "Very well, but don't think I've given up on this matter Nakamura. I still think it's a big mistake." Noticing that the chief had already turned to his own tower of forms, he left the station, wanting nothing more than to go home and get some sleep.

XXXXX

Walking in the heavy rain through the suburbs, Fujiwara found himself wishing that his job paid a little better. [I just wish it paid!]. Not for the first time, Fujiwara was glad that government workers received subsidies on many necessities. He had an old sedan car at his flat, but lacked the fuel to go anywhere. Prices for a great many goods had skyrocketed since the catastrophe of 2000, gasoline among one of few commodities that had actually reached astronomical rates. Salaries on the other hand remained at pre-2nd impact rates. The car stayed at home.

Given the circumstances, he didn't mind walking all that much and the umbrella kept most of the rain off his head. He was nearing the bridge that led to his housing district when something under it caught his eye. [Is that someone there? What is he doing with that trash?] Moving closer, he saw that instead of a vagrant rooting among the refuse for something of value as he initially thought, it was a boy, some years to go before he reached his teens, trying to extract what appeared to be an abandoned bicycle from its prison of discarded furniture. [Well, at least he's helping by cleaning out _some_ of the trash.] Putting the incident out of his mind, he continued down the road, rather than crossing the bridge, deciding a small bottle of sake would help make the day seem better as he headed towards his regular store.

Minutes later, he left the corner shop with a small bottle of sake nestled in his coat pocket and was about to begin the trek home when a pair of voices drifted through the rain.

"-not nice to lie" the voice sounded cold, eager. It also sounded familiar.

"Honest! It's the truth!" Whoever the other person was, he was young. A faint edge to the voice told Fujiwara that he was either angry.......or afraid. [What on earth is going on?]. Deciding to investigate, he followed the voices around the corner where he found their owners. One was a police officer. He had seen the other only minutes ago, his sad, soulful, blue eyes clearly upset.

It was the boy.

XXXXX

[Why won't he believe me?] Shinji was distraught. He had grown accustomed to being ignored. Adapted to the whispers detailing false accounts of his past. Being practically called a liar to his face was something the quiet boy had never learned to deal with yet. And experience is a harsh teacher. The open grin the officer had was unnerving to him. It seemed to promise unpleasant things to the boy. A voice spoke to his mind. It was whispered, yet it echoed within the confines of his mind like thunder.

[**It is because you're too weak to protect yourself. You deserve this.] **

It was like an old friend. Heard many times through the empty existence that filled the years following his abandonment. Despite his attempts to accept his fate, he couldn't help but flinch as the officer reached out to him, believing that he would be slapped or worse when fate intervened.

"What's going on here?"

The hand stopped. Turning around, the officer stiffened as he recognized the speaker. "Nothing is going on 'Detective' Fujiwara." The acidic words were short, clipped, the rank pronounced like a curse, as he acknowledged the speaker, his body blocking Shinji's view of the new arrival.

Leaning over to one side to get a better view of the person, he saw a stocky man, gray hair framing his lined clean-shaven face. The drab suit and a brown overcoat he wore seemed to blend in with the urban surroundings, making him nondescript among the buildings, easily ignored as just another feature in the landscape. At the moment, he was staring at the officer with a disapproving frown. "If nothing is going on, why are you detaining the boy, Matsuo?" the hard edge to the voice radiated disapproval.

Turning his head back to Shinji, the now identified officer Matsuo gave the frightened boy another cold smile that spoke eloquently of painful promises. Returning his stare to Fujiwara, he sneered at the detective. "I'm taking him in on the grounds of bike theft. He admitted as much." The tone was mocking, as if daring the detective to contradict him.

For a brief moment, anger flashed across his face, but lacking the courage to actually speak up, Shinji remained silent, hoping that it would be over soon.

He did however; notice that the detective had raised an eyebrow at Matsuo's unspoken challenge. "Is that so? I'm certain if you won't mind if I asked him the details then would you officer Matsuo?" Without waiting for a reply, he sidestepped the silently fuming officer as he squatted, bringing his face level with Shinji's. Unlike the cold smile that Matsuo had directed at him, the smile that was on the detective's face was open, friendly. "Hello there boy, my name's Fujiwara Katsumoto. What's yours?"

"Shinji, Ikari Shinji." A small voice in the back of Shinji's head told him that perhaps things would work out fine. The memory of the promise in the officer's smile ruthlessly quashed the voice.

"Would you mind telling me how you came by this bicycle?" Hoping that at least this seemingly nicer person would believe him, Shinji recounted the events of how he came to possess it. When he had finished, the detective reached out with his free hand, ruffling Shinji's damp hair and shaking droplets of water into the air. "It's good to know that you're honest."

"What are you talking about Fujiwara!? He's obviously lying!" if Matsuo had bristled when the events were retold he practically exploded when Fujiwara declared his support of the boy's tale. The smile slipped off his face as he turned to face the officer.

"That is exactly the problem with you Matsuo!" he growled, his already thin patience snapping like matchwood, poking the officer's chest with his index finger, driving him back a step. "Your hotheaded nature" he poked him again, "is always getting the force into trouble!" He spat out the next words, "You never even '_tried_' to verify his story did you?"

Instead of responding to his verbal assault, Matsuo simply looked coldly at the detective, his eyes hooded. "I don't see how this is your concern '_detective'_." The smirk returned to his face "He has nothing to back up his story. And I am within my rights to take him in unless he can prove it." He finished confidently, secure in his belief that Fujiwara was merely being a nuisance. He failed to see the amused twinkle that flashed across the old man's eyes.

"He may not have anything to back up his story on his person, but he does have something to exonerate him." Matsuo did not miss the twinkle this time. "An eyewitness"

The younger man snorted. "And just _where _is this 'eyewitness' of yours hmmm? Hiding in your pocket perhaps?" He flicked his hand, dismissing the statement, quite sure that the old man was beyond a doubt, deranged. He was already thinking about filing a report detailing his mental instability when Fujiwara replied.

"You're looking at him" Fujiwara grinned, quite pleased with himself, at the flabbergasted expression that adorned Matsuo's face and decided to launch his next taunt. "If you wish, you can take us both in to the station. I'm sure it would make for an _interesting_ case for you."

Rather than continue and lose whatever dignity he had left, Matsuo decided to retreat, getting in one last thrust. "If you can vouch for his story, there are no grounds for me to arrest him. However, I expect you will fill out the required paperwork, won't you '_detective'_ Fujiwara?" Sparing one last angry glance at the older man and Shinji, who up to now had remained silent, hoping to avoid causing more trouble for these two people, the officer abruptly turned around, and departed, his booted feet angrily impacting the ground with each step.

Fujiwara shrugged. An extra 3 reports to fill in wouldn't that make much of a difference to the back breaking load of paperwork that would greet him the next time he returned to his desk. Matsuo's parting shot had been little more than a face saving gesture in his opinion. Putting the rash officer out of his mind, he turned around to face Shinji. What Shinji said though, was a little unexpected to the middle aged man.

Shinji was upset. Not at the officer. Most certainly not with the detective who had supported him. No, he was upset with himself. Father had left him because he was inconvenient. There was nothing to disprove that idea. His adoptive family had moved him out of the house because he was in the way. The students at school avoided him because they didn't care about him. And now this person had gotten into some sort of trouble because of him. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain he was the cause of the tension between both men. Unable to look the older man in the face, he stared at the pavement, "I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble detective-san." wishing that he wasn't such a burden on everyone. He only hoped that the older man would not lash out at him.

So when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and the question that followed, he was caught off guard.

"Why do you apologize? You've done nothing wrong"

Flushing a little, he tried to explain, unable to understand why Fujiwara didn't understand that it was his fault. "But, it's because of me you had to get into trouble with-"

He was cut off by a snort from Fujiwara, "Look Shinji, you didn't cause me any trouble. Matsuo likes to make an ass of himself and I didn't see any point in letting you get taken in over an issue as small as this. Especially since your innocent" Waving off the matter he continued, deciding to try to lighten the boy's anxiety by picking something lighter in nature. "Now, why don't you tell me where you live Shinji? I'll take you home. Your parents must be worried about you being all by yourself in this weather."

Almost at once, Shinji felt his head drop at the mention of his parents, and the sudden flare of pain the memory it caused. Voices that spoke of his worthlessness returned. But before they could manifest themselves fully, Fujiwara's voice cut through.

"What's wrong? I'm sorry if I asked something painful."

Shinji tried to hide the pain. Tried to ignore the empty gnawing at his heart. Tried to listen to the whispered words that told him that he was worthless and that he shouldn't burden the detective with how worthless he was.

"It's ok. You don't have to tell me."

He failed. The words were flatly delivered as he suppressed the pain. "Mother is dead. Father left me." Unable to say anymore, he turned away, embarrassed at his outburst. The hand tightened on his shoulder.

Fujiwara saw the tightening of the eyes, felt the tensing of the shoulders through his hand, heard the toneless words. [It must have been quite a traumatic experience.] He chose his next words carefully. "I'm sorry if I made you remember painful things Shinji. I promise to make it up to you. Come on; let's get you out of the rain first."

Finding shelter against the rain was proving to be problematic. It was almost closing time when Fujiwara had met Shinji and now, none of the nearby stores were open. Finding out where he lived, and how far it was from where they were, made taking him home in the increasingly worse weather a bad idea. Sheltering under the awning of one of the shops proved to be ineffectual as well since occasional gusts of wind would blow heavy sheets of cold water onto the both of them. Not really dressed for this kind of weather, Shinji was already shivering. [This is not good. If it keeps up the boy is going to get pneumonia. I've only got one choice left if I'm going to be responsible about this...] Bringing his face level with Shinji's, he made his decision.

"Shinji, we can't stay out here like this, the weather isn't good for you." He hesitated, not quite sure how the boy would react to the next bit. He didn't particularly like it himself, but it was necessary if the boy were to remain healthy. "I'll take you back to my place since its close where you can wait out the storm. Don't worry; I'll call you guardians to let them know you're alright. How does that sound?"

Through the increasingly numbing fog that he saw the world through, Shinji could barely make out his words. But it was enough, survival instincts overriding his own nervousness at being invited into someone's residence, he nodded. "H-hai Fujiwara-san."

END OF CHAPTER 01

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A/N: You might be wondering where this is going but rest assured that funny business is not going to show up in this fic (at least while I'm still writing it.) I pictured Fujiwara here to be a rather gruff fellow. Hopefully I will show that in the next chapter. Please stick around, it will get more interesting. I promise!

On a side note, i can't figure out this blasted formatting when it comes to placing spaces. I hope you can forgive me for that.


	3. 02

Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter. If you don't want to, I'll say it again. I don't own Evangelion. My corporate subsidy GAINAX does. Then again maybe it's not my corporate subsidy. But they sure do own it.

"Dialogue"

[_Thoughts_]

**Unintended Consequences 02: Symphony of the Soul**

Katsumoto Residence

True to his word, the door to Fujiwara's flat was only a few minutes brisk walk away from where they had originally sheltered. Out of the rain and a little less cold, Shinji was having second thoughts about the whole idea as the detective unlocked the door to his flat, his shyness and solitary nature having wrested control back from his survival instincts. "Fujiwara-san, I don't really think this is necessary, I-"

"Don't be foolish Shinji, the rain hasn't gotten any lighter if you go out soaked as you are, your likely to catch something nasty" The detective said, waving the boy's protestations aside as he opened the door and stepped inside. "Come on in, let's get you dry."

Still uncertain, he simply stood on the threshold. "uhm, excuse the intrusion." He had taken a tentative step into the flat when a large towel landed on his head. "Here, use that to dry yourself out, and make yourself at home. Just try not to get the furniture wet." Fujiwara was apparently not wasting any time in wanting to get him dry.

Patting himself down with the towel as best as he could, Shinji walked into the common room while Fujiwara disappeared into what he thought was the kitchen. It was sparsely furnished, yet functional. A small couch in front of a TV, a desk and chair were the most prominent items within the room. What caught Shinji's attention most though, was the cello case that was propped up in one corner. Moving in for a closer look, he noticed that it lay beneath a faint sheen of dust. If Fujiwara had ever played the cello, it was a long time ago.

XXXXX

Inside the kitchen, Fujiwara went through the motions of preparing some tea. The wind had chilled them both, Shinji the worst. He would need something warm. But his mind was not in the action; instead it was analyzing the events that had occurred. Most prominent of all was the odd behavior that Shinji had showed.

**[His eyes, they seemed so...so empty]**

It was a familiar look. That empty, haunted gaze had adorned the faces of children and adults alike in during the worst times of post 2nd impact. But at his age, Shinji shouldn't have experienced it. True, the trauma of losing a parent and being abandoned by the other could help explain it, but he had seen many orphans with tragic pasts who were cheerier than he was. What was it about this boy?

[**I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble]**

The way he said it. It seemed like he believed he was at fault. Most children would avoid blame, afraid of repercussions. This one was different. It was almost like he was seeking blame, yet still afraid of the consequences. [_Could it be depression?_]

His brow furrowed in thought, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Shinji Ikari. Long forgotten memories surfaced. Rumors, half-heard years ago, came to life, whispering in their sibilant voices. Connections were made, suggesting a possible key to understanding the boy. Could it be that-.

The whistle of the kettle broke his line of thought. As he prepared the bitter beverage he decided to try and be a bit more open to the boy. He genuinely intrigued him. Perhaps more answers would be forthcoming later. Arriving at the living room, he found the boy not sitting on the chair or couch as he had expected. Instead, he was standing in the corner where his cello lay. So absorbed was he with it that he did not hear Fujiwara's approach.

XXXXX

"See anything interesting?"

Whirling around, he saw Fujiwara behind him, a pair of steaming mugs in his hand. "Ahh! Fujiwara-san! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to touch it or anything." He would have continued in his apologies had he not noticed that the detective had begun chuckling.

Setting the one of the mugs on the desk, Fujiwara proffered the other to Shinji. "Look Shinji, you haven't broken anything or taken anything that wasn't yours so there's nothing to apologize for. Anyways, here, drink this. It will help warm you up while I call your guardians."

Sipping the bitter brew, Shinji found his eyes drawn back to the cello case as Fujiwara called the Hokage residence. Cello lessons, learned from the hours he had spent in the school music room, surfaced in his awareness. [_I wonder how he came by it? It doesn't seem like he plays it._] He tried imagining the gruff detective playing on the instrument but the two images were impossible to bring together. He was still wondering how he came by it when Fujiwara ended the call.

"Well Shinji, I've contacted your guardians and they've asked me to bring you back as soon as the rain has ended." Taking up his own cup of tea, Fujiwara began sipping it, staring at him with slate colored eyes as he sat on the desk chair. The stare unnerved Shinji. It felt as though he was plumbing the depths of his soul, bringing to light memories he had hidden from. An uncomfortable silence stretched out between the both of them, the wafts of steam rising from the cups being the only sign of movement. Shinji began to fidget when Fujiwara broke the silence. "You look like you have a question or two to ask. Go ahead."

Prompted by the statement, Shinji gave voice to a question that had been bothering him for some time. "Fujiwara-san, why did you help me?" He still couldn't fathom why the detective had taken the effort of helping someone as worthless as him.

Slate colored eyes blinked. Their owner leaning back on the chair; apparently giving the question some thought. [_Why would he ask such a question? Did he think that he did not need such help? Or did he believe himself unworthy?_] Staring back at the boy, he gave his gruff answer. "I helped you because it is both my duty and responsibility as an officer and an adult to give aid to any person who needs it. I gave you aid because you needed it." He shook his head, as if somehow disappointed with something as he thought to himself. [_A lesson many people have not learned or just forgotten_.]

"Fujiwara-san?"

Apparently he had been speaking his thoughts aloud. Grunting, he flicked his hand, waving off the matter. "Never mind, it was nothing. Do you want to ask anything else?"

"Fujiwara-san, do you play the cello?" cobalt eyes had once again found themselves drawn to the dust-covered instrument lying in the corner.

He shook his head. "No Shinji. I don't have any talent at all with the instrument."

"But then..." the question was obvious, even unspoken.

"It belonged to my aunt who used to play in an orchestra." His eyes grew distant, remembering times long past. "She's gone now. She left it to me."

"Oh. I'm sorry" Shinji stared at the floor, wishing he could sink into it for asking a question which had such a personal answer behind it.

Fujiwara was unsure of what to make of the boy. In the short period of time that he had known him, Shinji had proven to be one of the most easily depressed individuals he had seen in his lifetime.

Shinji puzzled him.

And when he was puzzled, he became curious.

And when he became curious, he needed to know.

But for now, Shinji needed something to take his mind of his increasing depression. Investigations could take place later. "What about you Shinji? Do you play the cello?" He kicked himself mentally for asking such a stupid question. A cello was not a simple instrument to learn and it was unlikely that someone as young as he was would know how to play it.

As quickly as his head came up at that question, it sank just as quickly. Shinji shuffled his feet. "I'm...I'm learning to play it. I'm not very...good at it."

This particular statement came as quite a surprise to Fujiwara. He found himself wanting to know just how good the boy was. "Would you like to play on it?"

Nervousness shot through Shinji's frame. He was not very good with the instrument and here, Fujiwara was asking if he wanted to play it? "b-b-but Fujiwara-san, I don't know how to play it very well and...and..." He would have continued in his protestations but his mind and voice failed him at that point.

"Shinji, it doesn't matter whether your good at it or not." Unnoticed while he had been staring at his feet, Fujiwara had collected the cello case. With a soft thud, he had placed it before Shinji. "What matters is whether you can put your heart into it" Fujiwara looked at him.

Unsure of how to reply to the question in Fujiwara's eyes, he nodded, reaching out for the cello case. He missed the approval that flashed across the older man's eyes. With uncertain hands, he opened the cello case, the locks clicking softly as they were released. The instrument that lay inside was a bit surprising.

It radiated age. An aura of years, perhaps decades and possibly centuries were worn like a fine mantle as they exuded from the instrument. The fine sheen to the wood, the smoothness of the grain suggested that great care and attention had been paid to its construction.

His nervousness grew. This was no simple instrument. As young as he was, even he could see that this instrument was far older and finer than its counterpart in his school. Even Fujiwara must have known its worth. Would he be able to even produce anything worthy for such an instrument? It seemed unlikely. But to fail now would be to affirm his failure before the detective. The detective who had asked him to put his heart into it. A tiny bit of courage found its way to his heart. And with it, he made his decision.

He lifted the instrument, struggling beneath its weight until Fujiwara helped him to prop it up.

He picked up the bow, placing it across the strings of the instrument.

He closed his eyes, the scores he had learned came to his mind.

And he played.

The melody was slow at first. Uncertain and hesitant. But as the music progressed, that uncertainty faded. Shinji had slipped into that calming place of his mind that he always occupied whenever he played. Losing himself in the melody, he lowered his mental barriers, and played using not his mind, but with his heart.

Watching from his seat, Fujiwara felt the music wash over him. True, the melody was rather simple, understandable, given his age, but he could somehow feel the emotions layered into it. It felt...sad. [_He really put his heart into it_.] Potential was there. If he kept practicing, he would one day be able to play professionally. Unlike the nature of the music however, the expression that adorned Shinji's face was that of calm contentment, something that he had not seen during their brief acquaintance. [_Perhaps the music is a form of escape?_].

As the melody ended, the last few notes shimmering in the air, Shinji opened his eyes. His stomach churned as he looked at the older man, a question in his eyes. Did he like it? Did he hate it? Lacking in self-confidence, he was sure it was the latter.

"That's very good Shinji. You've got a lot of potential." The detective gave an approving nod. "Why don't you play another song?"

Praise. For once in his life, he had been praised. His face lit up, the dullness of his eyes faded away, filled with life at the approval. Encouraged by the few words of praise, he lifted the bow once more and played, happy that someone thought he was good at something instead of the burden that everyone else he believed thought of him.

Sitting on his chair, listening to the symphony of the boy's soul as the rain poured, Fujiwara made his decision. He would try to find out more about the boy. What made him the depressed person he was. And if he could, provide him with a bit of guidance. Idly, he wondered how much Shinji's past could hold as the strains of a cello interwove with the rhythm of the falling rain.

XXXXX

7 months later, Iino warehouse, Tekusho Industrial park

"What am I doing here?" Fujiwara sighed, asking himself the same question for what seemed the hundredth time ever since he began searching through Shinji's past as he stood among the deserted warehouses. Birth records, school records and identification all were legitimate and in order. However, there was a blank space in the records. When he was 3 years old, the records simply blanked out, listing only his residence, and had resumed after his arrival at the Osaka Central Train Station several months later. His brow furrowed.

Ever since he decided to look up his past, Fujiwara had gained an insight of sorts into the inner workings of Shinji's mind. He was a loner of sorts. He displayed the characteristic discomfort in crowds of any sort. But unlike a typical loner, he desired attention but was also afraid of it, the desire never voiced, but noticeable in his mannerisms should one pay attention. He smiled fondly as he recalled the question that had started the process which had resulted in his insight of Shinji's mind.

**[Can I come back to play the cello again?]**

It was strange that he asked such a forward question when Fujiwara was escorting him home on that fateful day. He had acquiesced. It was only later that he concluded Shinji had done so because he was desperate for the praise and acceptance he apparently never had before. He had tried to mature the boy, make him more self-reliant emotionally, with advice but there was only so much that could be done with words.

True, he was more capable of acting on his own now then he was when they first met, but he was still an emotionally fragile person. Underneath that fragility though, Fujiwara suspected that a kind yet resilient spirit was being nurtured. He hoped it would be able to stand the rigors of life. Still, he had grown rather fond of the boy. His past or lack thereof, was also something of great interest.

Which was why he was standing in the shade of a warehouse as the skies darkened above him, waiting for his supposed informant to appear. Investigating Shinji's past had led to a great many dead ends and nothings. It had begun as a simple inquiry, a simple check through the records. Born of Gendo Rokubungi, who had taken his wife's name, Yui Ikari, Shinji appeared to live a normal life according to the records in his first few years. Living in the growing metropolis known as Tokyo-3, his parents had worked at an unspecified research laboratory located there. When Shinji was nearing his fourth year however, the records regarding a certain event were sparse.

While it was true his mother had passed away shortly before he found himself left at the train station, the exact nature of the passing was unexplained. It was classified as an industrial accident, no further explanations, and no investigations. It felt like a homicide case.

He had searched further, digging through records of just what research laboratory they were working at and its nature, looking for witnesses and previous workers who were involved. That was the 2nd discrepancy. No senior staff who had worked for the GEHRIN Genetics lab had ever left. Either that or died in accidents. There was also mention of a suicide by one of the senior staff although the details were also lacking. After that particular bit of information, nothing further could be found.

Additionally, he had been forbidden from investigating further by none other than his superior and friend Nakamura. He scowled at the memory.

XXXXX

"What do you mean cease my investigations???" Fujiwara practically exploded. The office was deserted, its only occupants a fuming detective and the section chief.

"It is exactly as I said Fujiwara. You are hereby ordered to cease your investigations on the GEHRIN Genetics laboratory and its staff." Calm as ever, Nakamura tried to reason with his friend. "This order comes from straight up. Its probably sensitive government research anyway."

Fujiwara wasn't having any of it though, "Listen, sensitive research or not, how do you explain the death of a pair of senior research staff under highly suspicious circumstances?! No body was ever recorded for the first death and it was classified as an industrial accident." He threw his hands in the air. "What kind of industrial accident can you suffer in a genetics laboratory that leaves no body?"

The section chief raised his hand, cutting off Fujiwara's tirade. "As much as you want to Fujiwara, I cannot let you continue like this anymore. Orders are orders. Cease your investigations and let the Tokyo-3 authorities handle it." He shook his head. "If you continue, I will have no choice but to suspend you from the force. Please understand when I say that this is better for all of us"

Fujiwara gritted his teeth, biting off his words. "I understand"

XXXXX

He had been discrete, but apparently not discrete enough, with his inquiries. He had gained the attention of someone...or something. And it didn't want to be found.

He continued his investigations, only in a manner more discrete than he had ever done so before. But the leads had dried up. The clues vanished. He kept going; convinced that something important was hidden. That was when he received an anonymous tip-off.

**[Come alone to the front of the Iino warehouse tomorrow at 3pm. You will find your answers there.]**

The timing of the call, its convenience , its very nature, all of it raised his paranoia. Most likely, it was a trap. But without any leads left, he had to take the chance. He had taken precautions, preparing for the worse. If he was wrong, at least it would be without regrets. Above him, a light misting of rain began to fall from the darkened skies. [_Rain again, where is that contact? I hope he gets here soon_] As if the thought had conjured them, he heard light footsteps from behind him. Tightening his grip on a familiar object in his coat pocket, he turned around.

"You're late"

In the skies above them, the heavens let loose their fury and the rain fell in earnest.

XXXXX

Shinji sneezed. It was raining heavily and it was getting cold. Fortunately, the umbrella that Fujiwara had given him months ago kept the rain from soaking him. School had finished earlier and he was making his way to the cabin he called home. [_Maybe I can visit Fujiwara-san later_.]

In the past few months that he had known him, Fujiwara was the only person to praise him for something that he enjoyed doing. He had practiced hard and became better at the cello. He had grown to enjoy playing on the master-crafted cello in Fujiwara's flat and he had accommodated his requests to play on it.

His life it seemed, had taken a turn for the better. The cold treatment from his classmates and foster family and were easier to bear now and he occasionally smiled. He was not fully aware of it, but he had begun to consider the gruff detective as more of a father than his biological one or his uncaring replacement.

So lost in those precious few memories that he had, he almost failed to notice the hunched figure as it made its way down the other side of the street. [_Is that Fujiwara-san_?] He couldn't tell. With grey hair covering the figure's bowed head, it was impossible to get any details and the brown overcoat concealed the owners frame. Unnoticed, he watched as the figure forced open the door of an empty shop lot and entered, the right hand pressed against its side.

Shinji was concerned. The figure seemed to have been in pain. Fujiwara had told him that aid should be given to others whenever possible. Bolstered by those words, he strengthened his conviction and followed, hoping to be able to do as he had been encouraged too.

END OF CHAPTER 02

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A/N: As usual post your reviews, comments, and whatnot


	4. 03

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, don't own EVA etc, etc, etc.

"Dialogue"

[_Thoughts_]

**Unintended Consequences 03: Shower of Sorrows**

Miharu Noodle House (Abandoned)

Dust. It was everywhere. Coating the moldering bits of furniture that lay there like corpses of a battlefield. Carpeting the bare floor with a thin layer of the musty smelling debris, small puffs of it raising like miniature wraiths, tracing the footsteps of the figure as it made its way slowly past the broken benches and tables. It gave every sense of a building that had long since lost those that had cared for its fate. It would do.

_Drip_

Cold. That was how the figure felt. Not the chill of low temperatures or the clamminess of being soaked. This was the chill of having lifeblood seeping through its shaking fingers, vainly trying to staunch the bleeding, knowing that oblivion lay very close. With the cleansing rain no longer washing it away, the brown overcoat began to be painted a crimson tint.

_Drip_

Slowly, but with an intensity that betrayed desperation, the figure made its way into the kitchen of the abandoned eatery. Each pain ridden step drawing a suppressed exhalation that spoke of barely controlled suffering. Unnoticed, a small trail of crimson traced its way down the pant legs, leaving behind small pools of blood as the figure disappeared behind the kitchen door.

_Drip_

There. A medical cabinet. Situated next to a row of shelves. Trembling fingers reached up, searching for a roll of bandages, knocking over painkillers and anesthetics in their quest. Arriving at their goal, the hands grasped the gauze, ripping it from its plastic wrap in their haste.

_Drip_

Done. The wound was bandaged. Painkillers were taken. The pain subsided and the flow of blood slowed. But it would not last. Professional medical aid was needed and soon. The actions had bought time. Little more. Sitting on the sole remaining chair in the room, the figure let out a small relieved sigh at the lack of pain. [_I was careless_.]

_Drip_

He had underestimated them. Where he had expected one, perhaps two, there were more than a handful of his would-be assassins. They were like a wolf-pack. Cold, silent and professional. Even as he had thrown himself aside, narrowly avoiding the first bullet that was fired, several more came from the various locations. He grimaced at the memory. The chaotic fight where he had attempted to use the only visible assailant as a human shield had failed, the others showing no concern that it was one of their own who stopped the bullets. The wild, adrenaline fuelled flight as he attempted to escape. The agony as a bullet tore into his back. He may have lost them. He could not be sure.

_Drip_

The bandage was becoming soaked with blood. That tiny piece of metal was finally doing to him what 2nd impact, riots and gangs had failed to do. He didn't know how long he had. However long it would be though, it wouldn't be enough. A clatter. From behind him. He scowled, his right hand tightening its grip on his service pistol as he whirled, bringing the firearm to bear on the source.

"F-F-Fujiwara-san?"

XXXXX

[_Is that blood_?]

Shinji had followed the figure inside the abandoned noodle house, wondering if he could help. The gloomy interior, the lazily shifting dust, the smell of mildew and the coppery scent from the crimson puddles were unnerving to the boy. He felt his tiny reserves of courage rapidly dissipating at every movement of shadow, every shift of light.

A small sigh emanated from the rear of the building, increasing his already paralyzing fear. For an eternity that was only tens of seconds, he froze, fear and commitment battling with each other. Almost against his will, he moved forward, looking for the source of the sound. Finally reaching the kitchen, he looked around the goal, his eyes alighting on his objective.

The figure was hunched, it's back towards him. An increasingly spreading stain of crimson adorning the right side of the overcoat. A small pool of the liquid forming at his feet, fed by a trickle that made its way down the pant legs. His eyes widened at the sight. [_He's hurt badly_]. Unconsciously his foot moved back a step, accidentally hitting a small glass bottle that was on the floor. At once, the figure whirled around, an animalistic scowl on his face as he pointed a gun at him. His eyes focused at the seemingly immense barrel of the gun, even as his mind registered its wielder. Shock and recognition painted themselves on Shinji's face as he managed one stammered question.

"F-F-Fujiwara-san?"

As quickly as it appeared, the scowl vanished, replaced with incredulity as the gun was rapidly pointed away. "What are you doing here Shinji?" He winced, his fingers pressing down on the wound, the crimson stain spreading.

"I, I, saw you on the street earlier. You were hurt." Concern over the detective's welfare overpowered his nervousness as he replied. He relaxed as the older man sighed, a slightly rueful expression on his face.

Fujiwara placed a hand on Shinji's shoulder, his face serious. "Listen Shinji, I need you do something for me, you know where the nearest police station is right?" [_I can't let him get involved in this_.] Upon seeing his nod, he continued. "I want you to go there and tell them where I am and that I need help alright?"

"But what about your wound?"

He shook his head. "Shinji, some very bad people are after me and if they found you here, they may hurt you too. There's very little time. Please, do this for me." Before the boy could reply though, something tickled at the very edge of his senses. Almost like a sense of watchfulness. Alarm shot through his frame as he whirled around, firearm at the ready, adrenaline coursing through his veins, eyes searching. There. The kitchen back door. The slightly open kitchen back door. A hand gripping a pistol just protruded from the opening. The gun was pointed in their direction.

Fujiwara fired. The heavy gun bucked in his hand, sending high velocity death screaming towards the door. The other gun responded once before it fell, bullets tearing through the door, its owner's hand falling away from view. Fujiwara grunted as he felt a sledgehammer impact on his left arm. A crimson flower blossomed on the just perforated sleeve of his coat. Turning around, he saw the shocked expression on Shinji's face. He shook him once with his good hand breaking the silence that had befallen the boy.

Shinji was petrified. He had come, thinking that he could somehow help but reality was proving him to be little more than dead weight. He had been unable to move when Fujiwara had turned, unable to help when he was attacked and because of him, he had another wound. In the gravity of the situation, he found himself unable to move. The shellshock only broke when Fujiwara shook him, forcing his attention on the situation he now faced. He faced the detective, his eyes riveted on the fresh flow of blood that streamed from his arm.

"You must go now Shinji! There may be more of them!" the words were hissed through gritted teeth, urgency threaded in every word. Without waiting for a response, he began propelling the boy with his good hand towards the front entrance, reasoning that the pursuers wouldn't come in through such an exposed opening. With a final shove, he pushed the boy stumbling out the entrance. "Go!! Run and don't look back!!"

The sound of metal on wood alerted him. He turned, trying to isolate the source of the sound. His eyes widened as they focused on the fist sized metal capsule bouncing off the wall to land on the ground in front of him. Instinct took over as he dived over the counter while his mind cursed his ineptitude. He had underestimated them again.

XXXXX

[_I hope Fujiwara-san will be alright_]. Shinji thought as he began to move away from the noodle house. He shook his head clear of those thoughts. Fujiwara had asked him for help for the first time he had known him. He had to hurry. He spared a glance at the building he had exited as he began to increase his pace.

Before his horrified eyes, the once silent building erupted in an explosion of flame and shattered glass. Shinji felt his light frame being lifted off the ground and tossed like a rag doll across the street as the shockwave caught him. Flying glass and other shrapnel grazed his skin as his body slammed into the asphalt, his wrist breaking with an audible crack as he landed on it. Sparks of pain shot through his vision but it couldn't compare to the cold pain in his heart at the sight before him. He had landed facing the former noodle house. The last thing he saw through his pain-numbed senses before oblivion claimed him was the building that Fujiwara shoved him out, flames billowing out of its now empty windows. [_I, I, failed him_]

As the boy passed out from the pain, sirens began their mournful wailing, announcing the approach of authorities. Beneath the weeping skies, the building continued to burn.

XXXXX

GEHRIN Genesis Research Center, Project Leader's office

Within the darkened room, a hunched figure sat behind his desk, his fingers interlaced before his face, orange tinted glasses glinting off the illumination provided by the single light visible. On the desk, a phone rang. The figure broke his stance, picking up the receiver, placing it before his ear as he waited.

"The vaccine has been administered. No further complications."

The figure only made one response before closing the connection. "Good"

Behind him, a form clad in a brown suit frowned. "Was that necessary Ikari? It is likely that he would not have found anything useful nor did he pose much of a threat. That is what our safeguards are for."

A small, barely perceptible shrug was made as he replied. "If that was only the case I might have agreed with you Fuyutsuki-sensei." He frowned "However, the connection he had with the Third Child may have proven to be cumbersome had we allowed it to continue. Cutting the link now would be more prudent."

Fuyutsuki only shook his head.

XXXXX

12 days later. Residence of Shinji Ikari

Shinji sat alone in his cabin his knees drawn up to his chest. Absently, he fingered his left wrist, bound in a cast to prevent it from moving. The doctors had told him it was a clean break and would heal in time. [_I deserve this pain._] Utter dejection painted his face as his eyes stared unseeingly at the bland walls that made up the bulk of his residence.

He had attended Fujiwara's funeral yesterday. Without any living relatives, the only other person who had been there as the flowers were laid was his superior, Nakamura Masato who Shinji had met some months prior. They had watched in silence as the casket was lowered, each lost in their own thoughts and regrets. No words were exchanged between them. None had been necessary. One had lost a close friend. The other had lost a mentor and guide. Both had known it. They stayed there as the last rites were said. Placed the wreaths when they were done. And each asked for forgiveness in the silent halls of their minds albeit for very different reasons.

[_I failed him_]

A shiver passed through his frame as he curled up tighter.

[_I let him die_]

The SDAT lay on the desk, its haunting classical melodies no longer capable of providing their soothing balm.

[_I'm worthless_]

That mantra continued endlessly. He did not know how long he had been faced with the guilt of his memories and self-abuse nor if he would stop had it not been for a gentle, yet insistent knocking on his door. He wanted to ignore it, wallow in his self-loathing and die. But the caller was persisted. Giving in to the unvoiced request that he answer the door, he rose from his position to do so.

"Masato-san?"

The aged section chief was one of the last few people that Shinji had ever thought would visit him. He was carrying a large wooden case in his left hand. Shinji's eyes widened slightly. He recognized the case.

Nakamura looked sadly at the boy. "Fujiwara's will was read yesterday. He wanted you to have this." He propped the cello case in front of Shinji."

Perplexed, Shinji could only stutter. "b-b-but I don't deserve-"

"Shinji, whether or not you deserve it, he wanted you to have it. Take it, as a way of honoring his memory." Seeing the boy reluctantly take hold of the case he nodded. "He was a good man. If he wanted you to have something, it was because he felt you deserve it. Take care." With those last words uttered, he turned, walking down the path that led to the road.

XXXXX

He stared at the cello case, propped against the wall of his home. Memories seemingly emanated from it, forming a living portrait of recollections before his eyes. Memories that now carried a tinge of guilt and loss.

Not wanting to confront the memories any longer, he reached for the case, wanting to chase away the sadness with the serenity of its music. The locks snapped open easily and he lifted the case. An envelope fluttered out, catching his attention. On it, his name was written. Curious, he opened the envelope and read the letter it contained.

_Shinji,_

_If your reading this, then it can only mean that I am dead,-_

Shinji blinked, grief coming out afresh. [_He had known._]

_-most likely because I was rash. I'm not very good at this so I'll get to the point. If you're grieving over me, I'd rather you not. Remember me yes, grieve over me no. I'm sorry if I caused you any pain but as things stand, this is the only way I can apologize. In the time I had known you, you have shown a remarkable improvement from the somber lad I had first met. I wish I could have done more to help you._

_I ask that you come to terms with my death and not let it burden your thoughts. I have lived a fulfilling life and do not regret it. Do not regret the past or let it burden you Shinji. The only thing that lies in that path is grief and I would rather you not take it. You are young and there is a chance for a bright future for you if you. You need only grasp it._

_Now, about this cello. When it was passed to me, I was asked to not let it die from disuse. Lacking the skill to play the instrument or knowledge of anyone who could play it, I had let it gather dust. However, I believe that in you, lies a soul who can bring it to life the way it was meant to. Take good care of it Shinji. I entrust you with it. I hope you can still find the joy in playing it as you did before._

_Don't let the past tie you down Shinji or live for the praise of others. You are stronger than that. Don't run away from your past. Instead, face it, come to terms with it and reach for the future that lies before you. Live for yourself and for what you believe in. I believe in you Shinji. You will do well._

_Fujiwara Katsumoto_

Shinji lowered the letter. [_I'm sorry Fujiwara-san_.] Guilt still wracked his frame, but in a way, the letter had blunted its keen edge away, allowing the boy to heal his mental demons. Almost unconsciously, his hand reached for the cello case.

Music filled the air of the cabin, its melody both haunting, yet warm, as if grieving the passing of one friend but welcoming the presence of another. The symphony of the soul transcribing that which could not be spoken.

XXXXX

Osaka City Cemetery 12th February, 2015

It was an odd scene at the weathered gravestone. A young lad just into his teens was seated on a folding chair before it, eyes closed, playing a slow tune on the cello propped against his shoulder. It was a beautiful melody, filled with emotion, weaving a story with music that only he could read. As the music ended, the last few notes shimmering in the air, Shinji opened his eyes, regarding the headstone with a mixture of fondness and regret.

"Fujiwara-san, I received a letter today." His hand tightened slightly on the bow. "It's from father. He wants me to go back to Tokyo-3." A pause, a small frown. "He didn't say why, and I don't think he wants us to live as a family again."

He slid the cello back into the case. "It's a little ironic that the letter arrived on the anniversary of your... your passing." His tongue stumbled over the word as memories returned to him. "Maybe this is the future you were talking about in your letter." He laughed a little nervously.

The cello case snapped shut. "But I won't be able to return here anymore. The train leaves tomorrow." He lifted the case. "So I guess this is goodbye Fujiwara-san."

He placed a small bouquet of lilies before the gravestone. "Goodbye Fujiwara-san....and thank you."

END OF CHAPTER 03.

XXXXX

A/N: And so we come to a close to the Catalyst arc. Finally, Shinji gets to go to Tokyo-3. How will he cope? How will he adapt? How will the events of NGE as we know it be shaped? Stick around and find out as we move into the Conception arc.

As usual, post your comments and what not. I'm open to suggestions and criticisms. 


	5. 04: Conception

Disclaimer: I don't own Evangelion. If i did, why would i be writing this fanfic when i can produce it, animate it, licence it and make oodles of money by selling it to fanboys would preferably (i think) watch it than read about it?

  
Unintended Consequences 04: Where it all begins

_And lo and behold, the Messengers will return,_

_Arriving when the Messiahs come of age,_

_From the sea will come Sachiel, Messenger of water,_

_His coming will be shrouded in fire, death and destruction,_

_The very heavens will split, heralding his presence,_

_His foes will scatter as dust before the wind,_

_He will come, as will all his brethren,_

_Clad in their glory, to the fortress of Man, _

_Seeking to pay homage to the First Messenger,_

_And the Messiahs will judge the worthiness of the supplicants,_

_Guardians to Heavens Door,_

_Riding upon shadows of Messengers fallen,_

_Wielding powers that are their birthright,_

_The Messiah of the past will abstain, the spirit willing but the flesh weak,_

_The Messiah of the present cannot, separated by raging seas and tall mountains,_

_The Messiah of the Future will pass judgment,_

_And the Messenger will be deemed unworthy.  
_

* * *

NERV Headquarters, Evangelion Cage Unit 00

11th February, 2015, 0950 hours  
  


Standing behind the observation windows, Gendou Ikari observed the ginger colored Evangelion. Behind him, Ritsuko Akagi and her team began the startup procedures which would allow for the unit's pilot, Rei Ayanami, to synchronize with the behemoth. Touching an intercom control, he spoke directly to the pilot. "Rei, are you ready?" his tone holding something approaching affection that was normally devoid from his speech.

Watching from the rear of the room, Kozou Fuyutsuki knew the tone for what it was. Where others believed it was affection for someone who was what they thought was his 'favorite', he knew better. To Gendou, Rei was a tool. A favored tool undoubtedly. But a tool nonetheless. One that would be discarded just as casually as one did with trash once its purpose was served without a shred of regret or remorse.

He knew the true events that led to the demise of the first Rei and Gendou's involvement behind it. And he had done nothing. Impassively stood by as a little girl was sent to a brutal death. While he soothed his conscience by telling himself that the girl could never really die, a tiny voice persistently told him that it was no different from any other death. And he had allowed it to pass, all for the sake of humanities future. Guilt that never showed openly would follow him to his grave. Sometimes, he questioned himself. He may not have been directly responsible, but his hands were no less bloody. He wondered if he would be able to stay the course of Human Instrumentality as he followed the blood-soaked road towards it.

[_Is this the right way_?]

And he questioned himself once again as the unit went out of control.

XXXXXX  
  
50 kilometers from Tokyo-3, Kansai railway line

13th February, 2015, 1520 hours  
_  
  
Father called for me_] The carriage was sparsely populated, allowing the boy to think in silence. So much had happened so quickly. The letter had been short, the words clipped as if the writer was loath to waste words. Its message direct and to the point.

**_Come to Tokyo-3. Train tickets are enclosed inside._**

[_Why does he need me?_] No matter how he tried, he couldn't imagine that his father wanted him back for a joyous reunion. It was the only explanation he could come to. He was needed for something. Something that several years of abandonment did not count against. But for what? He didn't know.

_**You're leaving for Tokyo-3? Very well then.**_

[_Fujiwara-san might have cared_] But Fujiwara was gone now. He had said goodbye to him yesterday at his grave. The Hokage family didn't really care whether he was staying or going. They had raised neither protest nor helping hand to pack when he had informed them. To them, he was an extra, a burden. There was little point in staying.

[_Reach for the future_] Fujiwara's letter was becoming prophetic. Indeed, there was little point to dwelling in the past. There was nothing there for him. It was time to move on. He looked out the window as he pondered Fujiwara's last words. [_But _w_hat does the future hold for me?_] The only answers lay in his destination. Tokyo-3.

Rummaging around in his tote bag, he removed his SDAT player. [_I wish I had my cello with me_] he thought idly as he plugged the headphones into his ears. The cello and most of his clothes would be sent later once his residence was confirmed. Switching to track 25, he listened to the haunting strings of Bach as the miles passed by.

XXXXXX  
  
Deserted. That was an apt description for the place. Save for the single teenager at the phone booth and his slung backpack, there was not a single soul to be seen. Silence permeated the air. No sounds emanated from the surroundings, no roar of passing cars, no whistling of passing trains, no endless murmuring of voices. No shuffling of a hundred feet moving towards goals and destinations. Nothing moved. Nothing that gave sign of life. No aural or visual sign of humans that should have inhabited the city. All was deathly silent and still.

"Given the state of emergency, all lines have been closed"

Sighing, Shinji Ikari replaced the phone. No one had been around when he had arrived at the train station. Even the train had been devoid of occupants save for himself on the final stretch. And while waiting for his contact, a state of emergency had been declared. Unable to understand what was going on, he had tried contacting the number listed on the letter. As it was, the call never got through. "I guess I better start looking for a shelter."

Absently, he withdrew a small picture from his shirt pocket which held the image of his contact. On it, striking young woman in her early 20's posed for the camera; her face framed long mauve locks, sporting a cheeky grin, fingers flashing in a V sign. Mischief and life sparkled in her eyes. The words "P.S. Look over here" attached to a small arrow blatantly advertised her generous cleavage which her clothes did little to conceal. [_And she works for my father..._] He shook his head slightly. [_What does my father do anyway?_] Racy images ran through his mind before his conscience quashed them, berating him for a fool. Looking up from the picture a flash of color caught his eye.

It was a girl, no older than he. Short azure hair the color of the sky framed her head, skin paler than the finest porcelain. Crimson irises set within almond shaped eyes stared with unrelenting passivity. Garbed in a school uniform, she stood, watching him. Like the rest of the city, she neither moved nor made a sound. On the edges of his memory, something tickled, trying to compare the girl to faded imagery of a time long since past. And then, sound came to the city.

A brief tremor ran through the city, startling a flock of formerly silent birds to take to flight. Shinji looked up, tracing the avian creature's path. [_What was that?]._ Remembering the other living being in the area, he looked back to where the girl stood, wanting to ask if she knew what had happened. She was gone. [_Where did she go?_] There was no place for her to have gone. Not in those brief few seconds. He did not have long to ponder that curiosity.

Banshee-like wails alerted the boy as silvery shapes streaked over him as he instinctively brought up his arms in a futile attempt to protect himself. As the shapes shrieked by him, he turned his head to track their path. They disappeared around a building, deep thunderclaps announcing the end of their journey. [_Missles?_ _Are we at war?_] The answer came all too soon.

Emerging from where the missiles had gone, a grey aircraft reversed into view, fire flashing from the weapon pods fixed beneath its wings, engines whining to give it the lift to stay in the air. The white lettering on its side announced its affiliation with the JSDF. Then its target came.

It was immense. Bipedal, what could only be called a creature walked onto the street, its frame easily reaching the tops of the tall buildings that surrounded it. In comparison, the fighters that attacked the behemoth were miniscule, insect-like. A brilliant purple beam lanced out from its outstretched hand, skewering a hapless fighter from nose to tail. As the doomed aircraft smashed onto the street, Shinji leapt out of the way, arms up to protect his face from debris. A deafening explosion announced the cremation of the fallen craft and the nauseating scent of burning jet fuel mixed with the sickly sweet smell of burning flesh filled the air. The tortured squeal of rubber close to him forced the boy to lower his arms.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Shinji"

Turning his head to the sound, he saw a woman seated in a blue Alpine car, shades obscuring her eyes, one handed firmly gripping the steering wheel. Recognition flared in his eyes. It was his contact. "Miss Katsuragi?"

"Yeah, yeah!" she thumbed the passenger seat with her free hand. "Come on! Get in! Hurry!"

He didn't waste any time complying. Clutching his tote bag, he raced around the car, pausing only to open the door before diving in. He had barely lifted his feet of the asphalt when Katsuragi slammed her foot down on the accelerator, the car leaping into motion as it sped crazily away from the battle being waged between human and creature.

"What is that thing??"

XXXXXX  
  
A maze. An endless flow of corridors, turns, forks, junctions and lifts greeted the boy as he followed Misato Katsuragi, as she had introduced herself earlier, through the immense underground facility the briefing documents said was called NERV [_My father works here? What does he do?_]. Through their brief flight from the creature and close brush with death, he had been given snatches of information.

An Angel. No divine messenger from the heavens, it was instead, the hellish creature that had shrugged aside the best efforts of the JSDF to stop it in an insane orgy of destruction. He had seen as the JSDF flung their best weapons at the angel to no effect. And somehow, NERV, the organization his father was involved in, had known about this terrifying being. [_But how did they know? There's so much I don't know._]

For untold minutes they walked, never meeting another soul, the halls eerily empty of any other human presence, silent, still and dead. Misato paused in her long strides, as if in indecision. [_We're lost aren't we?_] As if the thought had been the catalyst, a door hissed open, revealing a blonde woman in a doctor's coat and a peeved expression on her face.

Her words matched her expression. "You're late Captain Katsuragi."

XXXXXX  
  
"Father created that?" incredulity painted Shinji's face. The lady doctor, Ritsuko Akagi, who had found them, had led them through the confusing maze of passages, only to stop on a darkened walkway. The lights had been activated and he now stared at an immense armored face, the remainder of its body hidden beneath a strange purple liquid.

A voice boomed from above. "That is correct"

Looking up, Shinji saw the owner of the voice. Silhouetted by a light behind him, standing on an overlooking ledge was the man who he had not seen for so very long. Gendo Ikari, his father. "It's been a long time."

XXXXXX  
  
[_He wants me to pilot it_] For several minutes he had stood in silence, unable to respond as two sides warred within his mind. One part of him wanted nothing more than to leave this place, leave the battles, leave that cold, callous, uncaring man he called his father and his ludicrous request. Another part of him rejoiced in the bare fact that his father needed him, even if it was only to serve as a combatant.

[_He needs me_] A tiny seed of joy grew within the boy. He was needed. He was wanted. Needed by the man he thought had thrown him away so many years ago. He wanted to do what to accept. He wanted to do as he was asked. To be accepted. He opened his mouth to speak.

[O_nly to fight_] Anger flared anew, scorching the joyous plant that had grown. He wasn't really needed. He was called for a ridiculous reason. To fight, and most likely, to die for someone who was more of a stranger than a father. [_Why should I do anything for him?_] His fists clenched and his mouth snapped shut. It was ludicrous. He wanted to reject him. To spurn that uncaring caricature that called itself human and his sire.

[_Don't run away from your past_] A fragment of a much read letter. A farewell letter. A letter from both friend and mentor. That was the only reason why he had not rejected the request outright. He would not run away. He would face his past. But it was insufficient to tip the scales. The past was closed to him, but the future remained uncertain, wavering like a mirage in the desert, becoming many differing images. He hesitated, unsure of how, indeed if he wanted to take that step forward. In frustration, he ground his teeth.

Vaguely, he was aware of Misato's hand on his shoulder, saying something to him, yet he paid it little heed, lost as he was in that battle between past and future.

XXXXXX  
  
[_So he cannot decide yet_] Patience was something that came easily to the hard-bitten man. One does not labor for over a decade with a singular goal without patience. In other times, Gendou would have been content to wait for the recalcitrant child's decision. He had not refused, but he had not accepted either. Time was not on his side. And he could wait no longer.

[_Then he will need to be prodded_] A finger depressed a button on the console at his side. "Wake Rei"

"Are you certain?" Fuyutsuki's worried visage came into view on the other side of the screen.

His face was set in its customary grim lines. "At least she's not dead"

XXXXXX

_  
  
Pain_. It is familiar. I have been injured. Grievous harm was suffered when the EVA rejected me during the initialization test. But the pain is more intense now. A sharp sensation on my left arm. Rationale thought is becoming easier. I am awakening.

_Motion._ The feeling of passing wind on skin. I am moving. But I do not move. The rattle of wheels on smooth metal. I am being moved. I am needed somewhere.

_Vision. _I am in the EVA bay. The lights painfully bright. There are people. A boy, no older than I am, stands close by, his eyes confused. There are others. Misato Katsuragi, Ritsuko Akagi, but above all, Gendou Ikari, the man who both created me and is my commander.

"Rei...our only back-up is useless. You must pilot the EVA again."

I have been ordered. I move to obey. "...Yes sir"

Pain wracked her body as she rose from the bed. Muscles screaming in silent protest as they grudgingly obeyed her commands to rise. She had barely lifted her frame to a sitting position when the entire room shook. She could not track all that had occurred in the resulting chaos. The bed shifting, people staggering, debris falling. She was falling. Her bound arm making contact with the cold metallic floor. Sparks of pain shot through her arm as a soft gasp broke free from her lips. Through the pain filled haze, she could make out the boy, reaching out towards her. An expression etched on his face that she had only seen once in her life.

Cradling her in his arms, Rei felt a flash of sensations, but it passed before she could identify it.

"Hang on!"

Another tremor shook the base.

With a tortured groan, several metal beams broke free, tumbling towards the both of them. Death clearly promised in their rapid descent.

The boy raised his free hand in defense. The feeble limb would provide little protection from the falling death. [_It matters not. I can be _replaced] A shape rapidly moved. And darkness consumed everything.

XXXXXX  
  
Loud crashes and splashes announced the arrival of the steel beams. He had been braced for death and excruciating pain as the beams had crushed him beneath their weight. Instead, the entire affair remained painless. [_Am I dead?_]

"It moved on its own?" A voice. Awe threaded through it. Misato's voice.

"That's impossible! The plug isn't even inserted!" Another voice. Incredulity and disbelief. Ritsuko's voice.

Opening his eyes, Shinji expected to see his ancestors, an endless void that awaited the dead, a tormented plain where tortured souls writhed, a heavenly plain where angels of the human sort lived in harmony. Anything but the scene that greeted him. Instead of passing from the realm of the living, he was still very much alive, cradling the girl in his hands. [_I'm alive? But...how?_] It was then that he realized it was darker now.

Looking up, he saw a massive hand protectively hovering over him. [_Where did... it's from that robot!_] Indeed, the armored limb was painted in the same hue as the head of the machine and trailed off into the liquid which hid the rest of its body. The feeling of something warm making its way down his arm brought his attention back to the girl.

Blood. It trickled down his arm. Not his blood. Hers. It was her blood. Her blood that ran down his arm. The coppery scent assailed his senses. [_So much blood_] Her bandaged arm and head had begun to gain a crimson tint, the tell-tale stains only hinting at the extent of injuries that she had suffered.

It was then that he recognized her. Short blue hair, a crimson iris staring from the uncovered eye. Pale skin even paler now. [_It's her! She was at the station! But how? How did she get so badly hurt? And she is to pilot in this state?_] Through his mental turmoil, a memory came unbidden to his mind, its imagery blurred and faded with time but regaining clarity in an instant.

It was a face. Not her face. Another face. Twisted with pain but set with determination. A resigned yet grim edge shone in brown irises. Grey hair slick with water. Blood freely pouring from a shoulder wound. Fujiwara's face. The face of a mentor, a friend. He had run then. And Fujiwara had died. None had held him to blame. No-one but himself. [_If I run now, it will be the same as back then_.] Determination crystallized and his resolve firmed. Doubts and fears faded like mist before scorching sunlight. He had made his decision. He gently eased the girl onto the floor. His one free hand clenched into a fist. He wouldn't let another die. He wouldn't fail another. He would run no more.

"I'll pilot it."

XXXXXX  
  
END OF CHAPTER 04

* * *

A/N: And so we come to the Conception arc of the story. I realize that this chapter isn't as soul-touching as the last one but there really isn't much that in the first episode that is really material for heart-tugging stuff. Still, I hope that this chapter is a passable piece of work.  
  
On a side note, I still haven't figured out this blasted formatting. All the changes I make to this thing keeps getting ignored. Oh well, i hope you, dear readers, don't mind.

One more thing. Please review. Writers like me thrive on it. Good or bad.


	6. 05

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Evangelion. However, I own the software that the MAGI and EVA's run on. And until i release a critical security update for them, they will always have security loopholes (the MAGI) and be forever temperamental weapons of war (the EVAs). They'll rue the day they didn't pay their registration fee.  
  
**

* * *

"Speech"  
  
[_Thought_]**  
**

**Unintended Consequences 05: Baptism amidst Fire**

NERV, Evangelion Unit-01 cage

"I'll pilot it"

Hidden by shadows, Gendou allowed himself a smirk. [_Everything is just as I planned_] He did not allow himself the time to enjoy his small victory. There was much to be done if his scenario was to be realized. He strode from the observation box, making his way towards the elevator that would take him back to the command center.

As the doors closed, he mentally ticked a box off his planned scenario. There was still much room for error that held fatal results for all involved. But for now, this particular section of the scenario was complete. It was time to move to the next one. [Y_our time of usefulness has begun Third Child. Do not disappoint me._]

XXXXX

Maya Ibuki was worried. The tremors had subsided, but the Angel on the surface was not likely to have given up either. Additionally, their only hope of stopping it lay in the hands of a confused, young boy who had just been brought in. Ironically, their best chance of survival had the greatest chance of dying first as he listened to her sempai's instructions. [_Is it really going to be alright like this?_]

Her fingers raced across the control panels even as her mind roiled with doubts and fears. This wasn't a drill. It wasn't practice. It was the real thing. Her fingers faltered. She shook her head [_Concentrate! I can't let him down. He's depending on us for survival as much as I am on him_] In lighter times, that line of thought would have brought a blush to the young bridge tech, but the seriousness of the situation quelled any such reaction.

Responding to the ready signals that flashed across her board, she activated the pumps that flooded the entry plug with LCL. Unsurprisingly, Shinji protested despite Ritsuko's assurances. Maya couldn't blame him. Even with the knowledge that LCL was breathable, she could never bring herself to willingly breathe it. Once the plug was flooded, she began initiating the command sequences that would create the link between pilot and machine. The results brought a barely audible gasp to her lips. "Borderline circuit passed. The unit is active." [_Even Rei couldn't synchronize with Unit-01 on her first attempt! And she's been training her whole life for it! Who **are** you Shinji?_]

XXXXX

[_That's our best chance, huh?_] Hyuuga Makoto didn't share in the confidence that Commander Ikari had. In his opinion, sending a 14 year old with no training to pilot a 20 storey tall machine of destruction to fight an equally large and deadly being struck him as clinically insane. But he was a bridge technician. His job was to monitor his console and support the pilot via the systems that were arrayed before him, not to offer his opinions.

[_Still, there's some small consolation_] True, the lad could synchronize with the Evangelion on his first try. And the synchronization rate looked promising. [_If he knows how to fight, maybe it will work out_] But now was not the time for worry or doubt. Whatever his misgivings, the boy, Shinji Ikari he reminded himself, was designated to pilot the EVA and subsequently, to fight the attacking Angel.

"Eva Unit-01 launch"

Obeying Katsuragi's spoken order, Makoto's fingers flashed across the control panels. Locks were released and the electromagnetic ramp that the EVA stood upon raced upwards in a trail of discharged electricity. The unit's path was traced across an electronic progress board as it raced towards the surface, immense hatches opening and closing as it approached, entered, and passed each section depicted in the diagram.

As the armored unit raced towards the surface, Makoto thought of only one thing. Unknown to him, that line of thought was shared by every member of the bridge crew to varying degrees.

[_We're relying on you Shinji. Don't let us down._]

XXXXX

As the unit raced to the surface on its launch platform, Shinji was subjected to a myriad of thoughts, his current situation being one of the more prominent ones. [_This is terrible_] There was some justification to that line of thought. The unit's rapid ascent currently was crushing him to the seat by the immense g-forces he was being subjected to. It was as if three very large and heavy men were sitting on him.

Hanging on for dear life, trying his best to stay conscious as the edges of his vision blackened, a strange, ironic thought occurred to him. One that had not surfaced in his mind before. Not when he had beheld the robot, not when he was cradling the girl beneath the protective shield of the unit's hand and most certainly not when he agreed to pilot it. [_I don't know how to pilot it_]

He panicked. Opening his mouth to ask the crew for instructions on how to use the behemoth, he forgot his surroundings. With an audible clack, the g-forces brought the upper part of his mouth to close painfully on his jaw. A faint tinge of red mixed in with the LCL. He had bitten his lip in the incident.

Before he could think on it further, the final hatch open and the platform came to a rapid halt, forcing the head of the unit up. Through his monitor, Shinji saw the Angel was standing before him. It was time to fight for his life.

XXXXX

Somewhere in Tokyo-3. Street level

"Ooh, that baka onii-chan! He's always so forgetful!" Little eight-year old Mari Suzuhara ran with all her might, trying to reach a designated shelter that was still open, braided hair lashing wildly behind her. Clutched in her hands was a locket. Not any ordinary locket, but her mother's locket. One of the last few possessions of Kumiko Suzuhara, it was a link to her children, trespassing the border of life and death through the medium of cherished memory. Contained within were several small items that held immeasurable sentimental value to her and her brother, each filled with irreplaceable memories.

Her elder brother, Touji Suzuhara had always carried it with him. However, he never wore it, insisting that it was something "guys" didn't do. As it was, he always carried it in his pants pockets. But today, he had forgotten it in the rush to get to the shelters.

"_Hurry Mari! The shelters will close soon!" Touji was gripping her hand as the two of them ran towards the shelters. She didn't really understand what was going on._

_Everything had seemed so peaceful that day. When the announcements came, she was playing in the small community playground and had missed it. She would have continued playing blissfully there had Touji not arrived later, face frantic as he called out for her._

"_Mari! What are you doing here!? Didn't you hear the announcement?" Relief washed over his face as he grasped her shoulders._

"_What announcement Onii-chan?" She didn't really know what was going no, although it did seem rather quiet for the middle of the day._

_He scrunched his face in exasperation. "Never mind. We need to get to the shelters quickly." Grasping her hand, they ran as fast as Mari's little legs could carry her. They had approached the shelter entrance, guarded by armed soldiers when a thought occurred to her._

"_Onii-chan, did you remember mama's locket?"_

_Panic momentarily washed over his features as he checked his pocket. "Crap! I must have left it on the desk when I ran out!"_

_Mari stamped her foot. "Onii-chan! How could you forget!? I'm going to get it." And with those words, she wriggled free of his grasp and began running down._

_Touji turned to follow her, but a strong grip on his shoulder restrained him. "Where are you going kid? Get into the shelter! We're going to close it in less than 3 minutes." It was the shelter guards._

"_Mari! Get back here! Come back!" Her only response was to turn around and stick her tongue out at him before she disappeared from sight._

She sighed. She had found the locket, carelessly placed on her brother's desk. That had been more than 5 hours ago and it was starting to get dark. [_baka onii-chan. If only he wasn't so forgetful_]. Slowing down a little, she came to a halt, placing her hand on the wall beside her for support as she tried to regain her breath.

A tremor shook the ground, causing her hand to slip as she fell to the ground. "Oww...an earthquake?". Mari had never experienced one in her life before, but her brother described it to her during an emergency drill. She had risen to her feet when another tremor shook the ground, nearly caused her to lose her balance.

"What's going on?" she wondered out aloud before the answer became all too obvious. At first, it was only a distantly spotted object, low and long, darker than the shadows in which it resided. Then another darkened object joined it, stretching an impossible length as a new tremor shook the ground.. [_A leg_] her mind told her. Then it came fully into view. Highlighted by the various lights that stubbornly burned in the city, she could make out a pair of massive shoulders, thin limbs and a thick frame. A red orb dominated the center of its chest. But what stood out the most were the twin bones that could only be described as faces. [_A monster!_].

For a brief moment, the girl stood paralyzed as she somehow felt its baleful gaze on her.

A large hiss of compressed air and a roaring sound made its way to her ears but the gaze prevented her from registering it. And then, twin pillars lanced out and the view of the monster was blocked by a rising giant. Unlike the first beast, this one had a metallic tint to it. But to her mind, it was just another monster. Snapped out of her shock, she did the only logical thing that came to mind.

She ran.

The ground shook and trembled as she ran, seemingly mocking her efforts at escape. Unwilling to turn back, she could only guess that the two titanic beings were fighting each other. She would never know the victor of the terrible struggle that night.

XXXXX

[_Why am I so weak?_] These thoughts ran through the pilot of Unit-01 as it lay before the Angel. He had made the decision to fight so that another need not. To fight so that the death of another would not weigh on his conscience. To fight, to protect. But reality had shown him the foolishness of his decision. He had barely commanded the behemoth to take its first step, guided by Ritsuko, when it overcompensated, falling face down. Frantically, he tried to command it to rise, to fight, to do anything but lie there on the ground, mocking his folly.

And then he felt it rise. But the Evangelion rose not on its own power. The Angel had gripped its left hand, raising the unit to eye level. Death seemed to be promised in the eyeless sockets of its twin skulls. [_No! Not like this! I won't let this happen!_] The indecision and laments of moments ago were blasted away by resolve and determination. As if that was the catalyst, the behemoth responded to his unspoken desire, swinging its free hand in an arc to land forcefully on its opponents face. The clenched fist struck squarely on the skeletal face.

For a brief moment, it staggered back, apparently surprised at this unexpected aggression. Then it hunched its shoulders, straining immense muscles.

With a thunderous crack, the imprisoned wrist snapped.

XXXXX

"Shinji, that's not your real arm that's broken. It's only the sensation from the unit!" Ritsuko desperately tried to calm the boy. [_It's too soon._] She had not liked the idea of bringing an untried and untrained boy to pilot the unit in the very first place. She had even objected to Gendo in his office when it became clear that he was summoning the boy for this very purpose. As was his habit, he had overruled her, stating reasons she could not refuse, yet could not fully accept.

[_We should have gone with Rei_] The pragmatic part of her acknowledged that with appropriate training and time, he would be a suitable pilot. But time they did not have. Rei, even injured as she was, would have the experience and the training to better control the situation and defeat the angel. She might have died on the battlefield, but that was a calculated risk. Not the wildcard that was currently presented before her. That other part of her, the one she kept buried deeply within her psyche, wanted Rei out there, wanted Rei to scream, to die, to forever disappear. As it was, that part was never allowed to surface. Not while she remained in control of herself.

"Reduce feedback levels to 50%!" Reducing the pain and keeping the pilot active was her primary concern for now. Even as the bridge crew hurried to carry out her orders, the Angel picked up the Evangelion by its head. Her throat tightened. She knew the terrible power hidden in that arm.

"Shinji! You have to fight back!" Misato also knew what was hidden there.

The words had barely left Misato's mouth before a brilliant purple lance drew back and slammed into the unit's eye, shaking the entire unit like a rag doll.

They watched, speechless, as the Angel continued to ram the unit's eye, the only counterpoint to the immense energies being imparted to the behemoth being the howls of agony from its hapless pilot.

XXXXX

_Pain. _The pain was unbearable. The sudden numbness of the entire hand. An avalanche of sensations running through the afflicted limb. One moment it was icy cold, so much so that his flesh felt like it was breaking apart, piece by piece. The next it was burning hot, so terrible was the heat that he expected his blood to boil. His mind flitted between rational thought and the soul-consuming agony. And then, there was more.

_Agony._ A needle, searing hot, seemingly smashed into his eye. Pain on a whole new level coursed through his body. Conscious thought fled and all that he was aware of was that horrific needle being plunged again and again into his eye. The pain in his wrist utterly forgotten, he brought up both hands to cover the wounded organ, to somehow shield it from that maddening needle. But to no avail. Again the needle stuck home. Again he screamed his agony to the world. And then he felt no more. Black tendrils of unconsciousness reached out to grasp him.

Before his mind succumbed to that final onslaught, one tiny, whispered voice reached out to him. Its crooning tone lessening the pain that tore at him. Singing a lullaby that was somehow familiar. And then, vision fled and he knew no more.

XXXXX

"Why is this happening!?" Mari covered her ears to shield them from the thunderous noises that emitted each time that purple lance slammed home. It did little to silence the thunder of her heart as it raced in her chest. Her legs screamed for rest and her lungs burned for air. Her vision swam drunkenly before her but still she could not stop.

She had tried to run from the fight, but just when she had thought she was safe, the purple machine had smashed through a building, landing only meters away from her. She had turned and run, but by some perverse decree of fate, the fighting had always erupted near her. But fate had not been swift. Each time the combatants came close to her, she had avoided injury, be it from struggling titans to falling debris.

But now, she harbored some small hope of getting away from them. One of them was losing. And losing badly. She could still hear the thunder-like sound of that horrible lance striking the other combatant. But they had not moved from that spot. While she on the other hand was speeding away as fast as her feet could carry her. A bend in the road offered her the chance to get away from them. To disappear from their view. To get to safety.

Fate was not such a kind mistress.

A wet tearing sound, but immensely amplified, tore at her ears. She held her course and continued running, but a brilliant light from behind forced her to pause and look back. She wished she hadn't. Its head pierced by the terrible lance, the purple behemoth was flying towards her, still transfixed to the lance.

It struck the building beside her with the sound of a thousand hammers striking stone, the shockwave flinging her to the floor. As she struggled to her feet, she was suddenly drenched by a shower of liquid. In her shocked state, she brought up an arm to sniff at it. [_It...it smells like blood!!_] And she was covered in it. Oblivious to everything, she could only stare at the crimson liquid as it slowly dripped down her arm, her legs, her hair, to pool before her. Dully, her mind noticed that the liquid was everywhere.

The groan of failing masonry and the shriek of tortured metal snapped her out of her trance. Looking up, she saw death written in the blocks of concrete and chunks of steel as they broke free from the shattered building, tumbling towards her.

Futilely, she brought her gore-spattered arms up to cover her head as she screamed the wordless shriek of a lost soul.

And the rubble landed, mercifully cutting the cry short.

XXXXX

"Circuits 27 through 197 complete failure! Circuits 213 and 259 in danger of failing!"

"Nerve linkages are being severed! The unit is not responding!"

"Shinji!"

"Unit-01....is silent"

A palpable silence fell at this announcement, each and every member of the bridge crew contemplating the horrific meaning behind that statement. Before the display screen, the Evangelion stood silent, head bowed in defeat.

Unaffected, Gendo continued to sit at his station, his eyes giving no hint of concern or worry.

As abruptly as the silence fell, the one remaining eye of the Evangelion erupted in a blaze of light and life.

Fuyutsuki whispered. "It looks like we've won"

"Indeed" was the equally quiet reply.

And they watched in silence as the Evangelion began its baptism of life in a rain of fire and destruction.

END OF CHAPTER 05

* * *

_  
Alex Ikari: I do need to put down scenes which have happened before. Boring or not, there are some subtle changes there. Trust me on that, its neccessary._

A/N: Whew thats number 05 down. Boy, writing chapters when you don't have a clear outline is tough! Sorry about the lack of fight scene descriptions. Since its Shinji's first fight, i figured there wouldn't be much difference between the canon and this version. Frankly, from what little i've already written, i have come to the conclusion that i suck at writing fight scenes anyways.

Now about little Mari. It was tough thinking of how i was going to put her out there in the line of fire without resorting to teleportation techniques. I mean obviously if Mari was to be injured, she would have to be out of a shelter or there would have been more casualties if it was a shelter that got damaged. So i gave her a plausible reason to be there and tada, one Mari in hospital.

Now you may be thinking, 'How can Touji blame Shinji for what happened? Isn't he at fault?'. Well in a way, he is. But he's human too. I'll let you figure out what that means. Heh.

Well, Ja Ne. See you next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews.


	7. 06

_**Disclaimer** : I do not own Evangelion, blah, blah, blah. There all you copyright lawyers. Happy now?  
_

_  
Thoughts_

"Speech"

**Unintended Consequences 06: What is worth?**

_He floated in the darkness. It was not consciousness, nor was it death. How he knew, he did not know. Only that he knew. Time was a non-concept in the darkness. He existed, but beyond that, there was nothing else._

"_cran…mge…..unko…!"_

_A voice, indistinct at first, but with an unmistakable tone of urgency. It was not the first one that had penetrated the darkness before. There had been others._

"_ji! Ans….! Shinji…!_

_That was one of the other voices. But it was fading, disappearing like mist before sunlight. Without a sense of movement, he sank deeper into the darkness as it enfolded him._

_**You will do well**_

_A voice that was not a voice. A statement of expectation. It was not like the other voices. Those had been filled with life. This one was a dusty whisper. Like an echo of a memory long since forgotten._

_**I'll do it**_

_A new voice. But at the same time familiar. So very familiar. In the dark abyss of the void, he struggled, tried to remember. But the darkness pressed in. He tried to remember. Remember. What? What was he trying to remember?_

_**I failed. It's my fault. I'm worthless. Nobody needs me. Nobody wants me.**_

_The same voice. But with that voice came the first sensation he had known in that darkness. Pain. Struggling turned to writhing as a soundless howl emerged from lips he did not have. He had to get away. Away from that voice. Away from the pain. Instead, he found more pain. Fire lanced through what would have been his right eye had he held a physical form. It hurt no less._

**Hush Shinji. Do not worry. I will not let you be harmed. I promise.**

_A different voice, tickling at the edge of a memory that would not come. Formless fingers held him, immensely powerful, yet gently cradling him as the soothing voice crooned a wordless lullaby to him. Awareness fled and the void consumed all._

_A timeless, dreamless eternity passed. In that endless void, where nothing moved, not even himself. Then the silence was broken. The hollow tapping of footsteps on hard floor. As the footsteps grew louder, an image coalesced in the darkness, indistinct at first as it came closer, then gaining in clarity as it passed by him._

_A tall man was faced away from him. Standing, no walking away from him, his footsteps echoing in the dark hallway. **Leave. I do not need you**._

_He stretched out an arm, imploringly. "Please! Don't go! Don't leave-" he doubled over at the sudden pain that blossomed in his skull. **Worthless boy. You are useless.**_

_Shift_

_A girl clutched in his hands, her short azure hair framing a porcelain face, blood leaking from the bandage that covered her right eye. An unspoken promise to no longer run away. To find some worth in himself, even if it was to protect a single life._

_Shift_

_The EVA unit, its head held up high by the Angel while its arms lay uselessly limp. The Angel's three fingered hand obscuring sight as its palm began to glow. With a sharp crack, the lance struck, and punched through the EVA's head, sending shockwaves of pain to him. But the thunderous crash of concrete and steel paled in comparison to the sound his mind heard. It sounded very much like a promise being broken. **You are worthless.**_

_Shift_

_The same blue haired girl again. Standing before him. A pool of blood spreading where she stood. That porcelain face, one which he had thought so fragile, was twisted into an accusing stare. The bandaged covering her eye fell away, revealing an empty darkness punctuated by a single red light. Her finger was raised, pointed at him. **A promise you made that cannot be kept. You have no worth.**_

_Shift_

_A stocky person stood before him, facing away from him, a long brown coat hiding his frame. The person turned. His face was a horrific collection of burns and blackened flesh. A hideous lipless smile of its bone white teeth was a frightening counterpoint to its charred face. "What's the matter Shinji?" It asked, voice rasping like rotting leather. "Don't you recognize me?" He fell backwards. "You should. BECAUSE YOU KILLED ME!!!"_

_Hands clutching his head, Shinji stared blankly at the black void, soft whispers leaving his throat. "No, no, I didn't kill you. I was, I was going to help-"_

"_ENOUGH OF YOUR FEEBLE EXCUSES! YOUR WORTHLESSNESS IS BEYOND COMPARE!!!"__It lunged, cruel fingers reaching for his throat. _

_Eyes wide in mindless terror, he fled, his escape dogged by the accusing whispers that echoed endlessly._

**_Worthless boy. Your failures are everywhere. You cannot escape from us. We will find you. Wherever you hide._**

_He tripped, his body impacting hard on that infinite blackness. The voices were everywhere. Almost he could feel the fingers touching him, ripping him, stealing his very soul. He opened his mouth, screaming his damnation-_

-in a room of plaster white atop a bed. He let loose a ragged sigh. "A dream". But how much was a dream? He was in a strange room, a hospital ward by all appearances, but in which city? Did he come to Tokyo-3? Did he really agree to fight a divine being? Did he actually go through it? It couldn't be. From the patches of his memory, the last thing he remembered was a searing pain in his eye and then…..blackness. If it really happened, he should be dead.

Involuntarily, he fingered his right eye, and released a breath he had been holding when he found it whole.

A dream. All of it. It had to be. He must have gotten into an accident somehow and his arrival in Tokyo-3 no more than a dream. Strange though. The dream had been so vivid, so, so real. He could remember everything so clearly. The wild, fear riddled drive through the highways, the blast of heat from that N2 mine detonation, the sense of wonder as the Geofront came into view, the leaden deadness in his heart when he saw his father, he grimaced at the memory, the warm sticky feel of that girls blood on his arms as he held her, the crack of bone as his wrist broke, another grimace. He flexed his wrist experimentally. It was whole.

Yes, that was it. Just a dream. But he had to find out why he was here. Lifting himself from the bed, he made his way outside, looking through the corridor windows at the unfamiliar cityscape. _It wasn't a dream?_ Wandering the hospital, he found a waiting area, and in it, a TV tuned to the local news. Not a word of it mentioned Angel's, giant robots, the general destruction wrought in the city. Nothing at all. It was as if it had never happened. He was utterly confused now. How much of what had happened was real?

The answer came with the rattling of wheels behind him. Turning around, he saw the girl. That very same blue haired girl he saw both upon his arrival in Tokyo-3 and in the EVA hanger. Rei, it was her name he remembered now. For a brief moment, her one uncovered eye slid to his, the unblinking gaze only lasting for a moment before contact was broken, the bed rattling onwards. _It was all real? It really happened?_ Absently, he watched her departure….and found he wished he hadn't.

His father had arrived.

Gendo promptly proceeded to ignore him, instead stopping the nurse so he could speak with Rei. It was only a few words, before he left, sparing no more than a cold glance at Shinji. Jealousy gained wings for one brief moment.

_Why does he talk to her? Why won't he even say hello to me? _

**_Do you really need him to acknowledge you?_**

_Why did he leave me so long ago only to call me now?_

_**You know why he called you. Because he needed you to pilot that machine.**_

_Is that the only reason why I'm here? Because I'm useful? Am I really worthless otherwise?_

_**What is worth? Is it worth in his eyes? Or your own?**_

He had no answers to that. He didn't have the time to think of one either.

"Such a cold man. Surely he can spare a warm word or two for his soul-weary son" absorbed in his own thoughts, Shinji had not noticed Misato's approach from behind.

He turned to face her. "Misato…."

The frown vanished, replaced instead with a light smile. "I came to pick you up."

* * *

_What is wrong with this kid??_ Misato was not having a pleasant week. First it was the repairs that she had to pay for her car, the insurance company certainly wouldn't believe her if she told the truth, then there was the ever-growing mountain of paperwork, mostly damage claims, that had been piling up ever since Shinji had been pulled from the entry plug. 

And now this.

Normally, she could empathize with him. After all, if the rumors were to be true, Gendo had abandoned his son at a very vulnerable age only to call him as a pilot. Oh, she had tried to help, get him to open up a little. But snapping back like that? Telling her it wasn't any of her business? _Well it wasn't really_. After she tried to give him some encouragement? _I'll fix that attitude of yours._

Fingers reached for her handphone. _And I know just how to._

_

* * *

_

"Hold on! Captain Katsuragi! Don't you-" The line went dead. "Arrrgh!!"

Sighing, Ritsuko replaced the handset on her phone. Misato was at it again. AGAIN! If she had any less self control, she would be tearing her hair out in frustration. While Misato wasn't breaking regulations this time, moving the Third Child to her own residence was bending whatever rules there were into a child's puzzle box. And a sure sign that she was acting on her emotions again. W_hat caused her to do that?_

Oh, her home was secured by Section 2, like every other home of NERVs key personnel, so security issues weren't really that much of an issue. It was Misato herself that was the problem. Knowing her, she could only hope that the Third Child wouldn't be overly corrupted by that woman. Perhaps his psyche would be resistant to it. She hoped.

Still, if it wouldn't affect his performance, she supposed she could let it pass. For now, nothing was more important than ensuring that the project proceeded as scheduled. And if a certain alcohol addict wanted to move a pilot to her residence, the least she could do was ensure that it went smoothly.

_I wonder if she's cleaned things up since her housewarming party.

* * *

_  
"There, that should do it." The throbbing vein on her forehead was clearly visible. "Shall we get going?"

Shinji on the other hand, had turned a pasty white. Most boys his age would probably have jumped with joy at the prospect of living with someone like Misato Katsuragi, a rather lovely woman in her early 20s. But Shinji wasn't your average 14 year old just coming to grips with his hormones. He was a very shy 14 year old with little social interaction just coming to grips with his hormones. So he did the most natural thing possible. He protested, or at least he tried to. When he did not sputter, he squeaked. All in all, it was a valiant resistance despite the traitorous brain that had deserted his efforts.

It was strange.

It was improper.

It went against convention.

It couldn't be possible.

It wasn't going to happen

Misato only looked at him. "What part of 'commanding officer' don't you understand?"

Ok, maybe it was going to happen.

Paralyzed by her evil eye, Shinji found himself frog marched to Misato's car where he was treated to life on the fast track. Fast track meaning racing down Tokyo-3 roads at excess speeds of 120 km/h with complete disregard for signs, obstructions, traffic and people. It was a clear statement of Misato's impressive skill behind the wheel as not only did she manage to avoid hitting a single object, the needle on the speedometer never fell below a 100 km/h except when she pulled a 270 degree turn, sliding the car to a halt in front of a convenience store.

Which was why Shinji started kissing the ground once he managed to ooze out of the car.

"Oh come on Shinji, it wasn't that bad now was it?" Misato said as she exited the car. She didn't even have a single hair out of place and was completely oblivious to his accusing glare. "Why, I even went slowly since you've just recovered."

"Slowly?" Shinji managed to gasp out weakly. _We nearly died and she says we went slowly????_

"Now come along Shinji. We need to pick up some things first." She tapped him on the nose as he got to his feet. "It'll be for your welcoming party." Giving him a wink, she turned entered the store.

_One moment angry, one moment insane and the next she's like this?_ He suppressed a sigh. And he was supposed to live with her. He only hoped it wouldn't be too bad. That line of thought however, led back to why he was in Tokyo-3 in the first place. And why he wasn't there any earlier. _Because I'm useful. Not because he missed me. Because he needed a pilot. Not because he loved me. Because I'm worthless to him otherwise. Not even worth his attention. _As his thoughts spiraled downwards, his mood became more and more dejected. It didn't go unnoticed by his self-appointed ward.

Half an hour and several heavily laden grocery bags later, Shinji found himself facing another death defying ride to a small viewing area overlooking an area of Tokyo-3. It wasn't much to look at really. Just a bunch of very large flat metal panels and a few short buildings. "Why did you bring me here Misato-san?

She gave him a knowing wink. "Just wait and see."

And so he waited. As the sun slid towards the horizon, its brilliant light fading into a golden glow, the wait was rewarded. Rising from the ground as armored panels slid away, skyscrapers gradually filled the skyline, looking for all the world like giants rising from their slumber. A sense of wonder washed away the depression that had formerly gripped his mind.

"This is Tokyo-3 Shinji." She waved her hand out, encompassing the city in its passage. "A city you saved. You should be proud of yourself." She said no more, allowing him to marvel as the city grew before his very eyes.

Rather than pride though, he felt a sense of hope. A hope for what he could not say. Only, the day didn't seem so bad after all.

_**You will do well.**_

Yes, perhaps, things wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. Perhaps he wasn't worthless after all. It was a small voice of hope. A tiny one. But it was better than the void that had been there before.

* * *

_Getting used to living here is going to take quite some time._ Mused Shinji as he began the simple task of unpacking his personal effects. Being given most of the household duties wasn't a problem for him. He had learned to keep after himself at an early age. Although he did think it a bit unfair to have been suddenly forced into it without any prior warning. _Well, it's the least I can do to repay her kindness for taking me in… _And while it was true the apartment was a mess, he could understand the general chaos as a result of just moving in.

Penpen on the other hand, was a complete surprise. You didn't expect to meet a penguin in someone's home everyday. Much less in the bath you're taking. And you don't flash your host either. His face turned crimson at the memory. _Well it wasn't on purpose! I was too shocked to realize it! _He thought furiously while battling the growing red tide that suffused his cheeks. It didn't do much good. The _bare_ facts remained.

Giving up the battle as lost; he put away his clothes and flopped on the bed. His bed. His room. His home now. A home given to him by someone who was practically a stranger when all others had rejected him. _She's a very nice person. I…….._ sleep claimed him before the thought finished.

* * *

Kensuke, resident military otaku, self proclaimed hacker extraordinaire and all round busybody was hard as work as usual trying to hack into the NERV databases when his long time friend slouched into class. "Hey Touji. I heard your sister didn't get into the shelters yesterday. Is she ok?" He recoiled slightly at the murderous expression on his face.

Slamming his palms on the table, softly because the class rep was in earshot, he hissed. "She got hurt bad yesterday. She's in the hospital now! They won't even tell my how she got hurt!" he grunted sourly as he sat heavily on his chair. "Now she may never live normally... her legs were badly crushed. They don't know if they'll heal properly."

Kensuke placed a consoling hand on his friends shoulder. "Hey man. I'm sorry to hear that. She'll get better though. Mari's always been a tough girl you know. Ever since….." he trailed off, not wanting to follow that conversation through, and by the way Touji's eyes flashed, it was the wisest course. "Uhm…well, I can't help Mari get better, but I think I may know why she's like that-Hey! Calm down man!" Touji had jumped to his feet and was gripping Ken's shoulders.

"How did it happen? Tell me!"

"Well, I was checking the uhhh…and you see.."

"Tell me!!!"

"Ok, ok. I managed to copy some surveillance data from NERV and well….take a look." He pointed at the laptop on his desk. The image displayed on the screen was grainy and the lighting was poor, but it did show 2 titanic beings locked in a deadly dance of death. Well, a one sided dance of death the way the purple one was beating up the other. The battle culminated in a final detonation where the green being enfolded its opponent and exploded in a brilliant flash ending the video in static. "Isn't it cool? This must be that robot we've been hearing so much about that NERV is building."

Touji wasn't in the mood to think about whether the EVA's were cool or not. He was upset. Royally upset. And he wanted to beat something up. _If I ever lay my hands on whoever piloted it…_

In a way, the Tokyo-3 Municipal High School functioned much like an intelligence bureau in the sense that information on events that had certainly nothing to do with conventional education passed in its halls, sometimes even before their rightful handlers knew about it. The great student grapevine thrived on any information it could find, factual or fictional. Word of NERVs new weapon had the grapevine buzzing with speculation. What was that being the robot was fighting? Why were they fighting in the first place? Why here? How did they know they would need such a machine? Who was the pilot for it? Many speculations sprouted to answer those questions, but almost all of them agreed on one thing. The pilot was a child, somewhere just into the teens. And he or she would be studying in this school. Perhaps would even be coming today.

That was enough for Touji. He would bide his time. Wait for that detestable pilot to show up. And he would teach him that hurting his sister was a mistake. A big mistake.

The door opened.

END OF CHAPTER 06

* * *

A/N: Gomen. Gomen. Gomen. I'm really sorry for being so late with all of this. Its been hard finding the time and motivation to write ever since I finished number 05. Well, I finally got my act together so here it is. I hope you enjoy it. Ja Ne. See you next chapter. 


	8. 07

**Disclaimer: First there was anime. Then there was Anno. And Anno saw the anime world and found it lacking. So he said "let there be EVA" And there was EVA. Anno was satisfied with his work and the people were pleased. Millions thronged to worship him. And then there was fiction. It became fanfiction. Man sought the EVA. To tame, to control, to write, to own. But Anno was wise. He had set forth a mighty guardian. Licensing rights was its name. And the mighty beast strode forth, its great sword Lawsuit hewed the proud mortals who would claim false ownership from their lofty perches. And there was peace for a time. But the rumblings of discontent grew. They thought to challenge Anno and were cast down for it. But defeat ever makes a mortal stronger if his light is not extinguished. And man discovered the legendary shield, "Disclaimer". And they learned the secrets of its forging and the key ingredients of its construction, the mythical "non-ownership claim" that gave the shield its mighty defensive magicks. And soon, word of "Disclaimer" spread far and wide, and all sought to claim one for their own. Fanfiction flourished once more and the people were content.**

**Listen well to this tale dear reader, for I too, am a wielder of "Disclaimer". One of those who belong to the order of Fanfic Writers. So beneath Disclaimer's protective mantle, hear my tale, and for a brief time, travel to this wonderful world. A world of countless possibilities. A world where a simple flick of chance can alter the fate of billions. The world we call Evangelion. **

_Thoughts_

"Speech"

**Unintended Consequences 07: Balance**

Tokyo-3 Municipal High School

School in Tokyo-3 was much like his school back in Osaka Shinji decided. Oh, it was a little further from his current residence, but it wasn't that much of a problem. Misato had even kindly offered to drive him here. He had declined politely, saying that he didn't mind although what he really minded was her blatant disregard for the laws of physics when behind the wheel. His stomach was still churning thanks to yesterday's death defying rally.

The rest wasn't so bad.

The somewhat curious students over the new blood, him. The teacher droning over lessons and the otherwise still atmosphere that pervaded the surrounding area. The only real difference he supposed was that instead of the textbooks and papers that would define a high school student's desk, there was a single red laptop. He supposed it made sense that the most advanced city in all of Japan would use only the best equipment for its schools. _Getting used to this place might take less time than I had thought._

Even if the teacher did tend to rattle on like a broken record player of two centuries past.

Evidence of the utter lack of stimulation was seen in the lightly snoring piles of those in happier places, at least mentally, and others who were otherwise engaged in business not related to the current subject at hand. Having heard most of the details surrounding 2nd impact in his junior years, Shinji found himself bored to tears, an arm propping his face up and idly scanning the crowd, seeking nothing in particular. Not that there was anything of interest to see. The class was proceeding just fine with its teacher oblivious to the general ignorance thrown his way, the students were being quiet and life outside the classroom was at a stand still. The only sign of life beyond those open windows was the ever constant song of the cicadas. Turning his gaze inwards, he spotted in irregularity.

There was a student who wasn't dressed in the typical white shirt and slacks that the other boys were wearing. Instead, he wore a black sweatshirt, matching pants and sported a short, spiky haircut. Most disturbing of all was the suspicious, hateful glare that he had directed at him as he entered the class. _Why did he look at me that way? I've never seen him before today. _Normally, he would have attempted to apologize, even though he didn't know what it was that he did wrong. However, with the way he scowled at everything, he decided that it would be safer to find out what was wrong first. Preferably at a later date. His gaze turned towards Shinji and the scowl deepened to near murderous. Much much later.

A soft beep caught his attention. Looking back at his laptop, he found a question displayed on the screen.

**Are you the pilot of that robot?**

He was a bit confused. With the general media silence regarding NERV, EVA's, Angels and the destruction wrought in that one terror filled night, he had thought that nobody else would have known about it. Surely they would have been taken to safety. Of course, what he didn't know was that a great many of the students in Tokyo-3 were children of NERV staff of varying degrees and that their collective intelligence gathering techniques was often enough to patch sometimes disturbingly accurate information regarding the going-ons of NERV. Even if a great percentage of it was buried or altered by gossip.

He looked around, trying to ascertain the identity of the questioner. He didn't quite get a solid clue. Small clusters of girls, boys and sometimes mixed groups were looking at him expectantly. Not everybody was looking at him though. The teacher was oblivious to the sudden shift of focus and there were still a few comatose students, although there were less of them now. Being an honest person and since there didn't seem to have been any rules against disclosing his role in NERV operations, he answered with the truth.

**Yes**

Like a lit match to a firecracker, the answer threw the class into a thunderous uproar. Most of the noise was disbelief and shock. Some voices were raised in envy and curiosity. Others were full of questions and demands for information. One voice remained silent though. If the previous glares from the boy in black had been murderous before, they now shone with a fevered light that spoke of destruction, pain and general unpleasantness promised in the most excruciating way possible. Shinji could almost feel the executioner's axe, its edge gleaming with a monomolecular finish, falling towards his rather vulnerable neck.

In his defense, Touji possessed a very protective nature and, although he would deny if asked, absolutely doted on his little sister. Her injury and subsequent coma had brought about a great deal of self loathing and guilt. He had after all, failed to ensure that she would be safely in her shelter at the time of the accident. But then Kensuke had shown him the truth of the cause. Her injury wasn't his fault. It was the pilot of that damned machine, stomping around Tokyo-3 with, with, with whatever the hell that thing was as if it was his own playground. All that guilt flashed to anger now that it had a target. A living briefing target. A target he could vent his anger and guilt on. Although that would have to wait until he could extract his target from the seething mass of humanity that mobbed him.

Of course this kind of disturbance proved to be far too boisterous for even the generally oblivious teacher to ignore. He didn't need to do much to restore order though. He merely looked at a girl, who later proved to be the class representative, cleared his throat and waited while she set about laying down the law in a manner that suggested much experience. Order was restored in a very short time. However, the effort proved to be wasted as the dismissal bell rang just before class could resume. Being the entertainment of the day, Shinji found himself swamped again by a horde of eager students, a barrage of rapidly fired questions drowning out the noise generated by the rest of the students. Even if he had tried to answer, he doubted that any would hear him over the avalanche.

"How did they choose you?"

_I don't know_

"What tests did you have to take?"

_There weren't any_

"What's it like to be inside the robot?"

_Frightening_

"Where you scared?"

_Very_

"Do you think we can be picked to be pilots too?"

That last question was most fervently asked by a bespectacled boy who seemed to be holding a great deal of hope in the answer.

_I wouldn't really know._

The questions didn't last long though. The wash of human bodies parting before him, the same student in black approached his desk, that angry face a mixture of rage and coldness. With what seemed to be inhuman control, he only looked at him before opening his mouth. "You. New guy. Outside. Now." Ignoring the disapproving looks from some of the students; he turned and exited the class. Unsure of what it was all about, Shinji rose to follow him, not understanding why some of the students looked at him sympathetically. Now Shinji wasn't stupid or overly dense. He knew that the boy wasn't going to have anything pleasant in store for him. No, quite the opposite in fact. However, he hoped that he could reason with him before any violence actually broke out. Barring that, he hoped he wouldn't be hurt too badly.

Which was the reason why, when the boy had swung about suddenly in the yard, fist leading the way, Shinji wasn't too surprised. What surprised him more was that he was just able to avoid the blow as he jerked backwards so that instead of a solid punch on the face, his nose ended up being grazed. By the look on the boy's face, he too was surprised, although that was quickly covered up by even more anger, if that was possible. He wouldn't strike back. Not without knowing. Fujiwara had thought him that.

**Only a fool jumps into the mud with both feet.**

"Why?" He asked softly, although that could have been the shock, "I've done nothing to you."

* * *

If anything, those words seemed to be turn that glare from a smoldering fire into a roaring inferno. The demons in Touji's mind screamed for blood. _How dare he?! "_Nothing wrong??!!" he spat incredulously. Leaping forward, he sent another punch, this one connecting solidly and knocking Shinji down. "You hurt my sister!" He kicked Shinji in the ribs, causing him to huddle into a ball. "You and that damned robot of yours!!" Another kick connected solidly. "It's your fault!!" Again. "You crippled her!" Again. Abruptly, he realized that his foot was no longer moving. Looking down, he found Kensuke gripping tightly to the instrument of his revenge, eyes a combination of censure and pleading. 

"Lay off man! I'm sure he didn't mean it!"

A burning response and furious shake of his leg died even before they translated to action as a memory surfaced.

_Mari was stamping her foot, her face a combination of childish upset and sibling smugness. "Onii-chan! How could you forget!? I'm going to get it." And with those words, she wriggled free of his grasp and began running._

She had run. Left because he had forgotten their most important keepsake. A keepsake that he should never, ever have forgotten. And so she had gone to retrieve it. Gone.....and gotten hurt. It was his fault as well. He couldn't deny it. His gaze slid to the shivering boy before him, arms raised to protect his head. His anger faded somewhat. He wouldn't apologize to the newcomer, Shinji he reminded himself, but he wouldn't attack him anymore. But there wasn't anything he could do, about the bile that filled his throat every time he looked at his victim. He spat at him. "Stay out of my way newcomer. I won't go easy on you next time" With that, he turned, not wanting to be reminded of his own failure, leaving a concerned boy behind, and one who was in his own personal hell.

* * *

Being eaten by guilt and self-loathing was nothing new to Shinji. Indeed, he had done it so many times, particularly keenly just after Fujiwara's death, that it had developed its own cycle. Oh, his ribs hurt and his face stung where the fist had landed, but those were minor physical pains. Easily ignored when he was caught in a cycle that scarred his mind deeper than a knife could cut his body. And the cycle was only beginning. 

"Hey. You ok? He really did a number on you."

The words cutting the cycle before it could begin, he considered the question. He _was _hurt. And he was most definitely _not_ ok. Still, he shouldn't be a burden on others. Peeking out from his arms, he sought the speaker. It turned out to be the same bespectacled classmate who was the most desperate to know if he could be a pilot. "I'll be fine" he managed weakly. He would be, if he managed to get some rest and the pain went away, so it wasn't really a lie. By the worried look on his face though, he wasn't buying any of it.

"You sure? Maybe you ought to see the school nurse."

"I'll be ok. I just need to rest a bit."

"Sorry about that, but Touji's very protective of his sister." He stuck out a hand to help Shinji rise. "I'm Kensuke Aida by the way."

_Will she..? Will she be alright?_

"Is....is there a way I can see his sister? I....I want to know how badly she's.....hurt."

Kensuke frowned. "Hmmm, it will take a while but I'll see what I can do. I'd advise staying away until Touji cools down though. He visits her everyday."

_And I was the one who hurt her._

Noticing his downcast face, Kensuke tried to soothe his fears "Ahhh don't you worry about it. I'm sure she wasn't hurt too badly. Besides, Mari, that's her name, is quite the fighter. She'll pull through. You can bet on it."

Eyebrows scrunched worry smoothened a bit. "Really?"

"Really. In fact I ah-" Kensuke's watch was beeping. Looking at the display, he brightened. "Yes! It's ready. I, uh, ahh heck, I've been preparing for this for quite some time now. I've got to see if it's ready. See you later 'kay?" Without waiting for another word, he left, face shining with eagerness.

Sighing, Shinji brushed his shirt in a vain attempt to remove the dirt that had accumulated on it while he was being introduced to the floor and Touji's shoe. _I really hope she's not hurt too badly._ He wasn't too sure about the wisdom of visiting her though. When she learned that he was the one that had put her in her condition, Touji would probably tell her, she would probably hate him for the rest of her life. His knees nearly buckled at the thought. She probably wouldn't appreciate seeing him either. _I really am the worst_. _But....I should at least see if she's ok._

With his ribs still aching from its brief liaison with Touji's foot, Shinji found standing straight to be too painful to bear. Compromising, he managed to lean on the wall, legs bent somewhat to provide leverage while his hands rubbed at the sore spots. He winced as probing fingers found a particularly sore spot. _I guess I deserve no better after all. Still, I should make amends._ A brief rumble of indignant anger flashed through his mind. _It's not like I knew what I was doing!_ Still, reaching a truce with the boy would be desirable althoughhow he was going to make peace with Touji seemed beyond him though. The angry lad made it abundantly clear what would happen if their paths crossed next. Given that they were in the same class though, it was a worrying promise. A sigh escaped his lips. _I think life just got harder. _A sudden twinge announced a previously unknown sore spot. _A lot harder_.

His ruminations encompassed much of his attention and it was not until he realized that the day seemed a little cooler did he look up. It was the girl. Not any girl. It was that same girl he saw on his first day in Tokyo-3. The same one he later held in his arms as she impassively stared, her lifeblood spilling onto his hands. The same person he had decided to spare grief and possible death by offering himself up to ride that massive beast they called an Evangelion. She was wearing the school uniform although he had not seen her anywhere on the premises before. Perhaps she had just arrived. _I wonder what she wants?_

"We're needed at NERV"

_Oh_. Before he had left the apartment today, he still had some difficulty in calling it home, Misato had told him about what his job as a pilot for NERV entailed.

"_You'll be on call at anytime of the day Shin-chan. You've got an important responsibility now. So be sure to show up when you are._"

Of course her being dressed both slovenly and scantily, not to mention the small tower of empty Yebisu cans resembling an aluminum Mount Fuji before her, had dissolved whatever seriousness that message had but he supposed it couldn't have been entirely frivolously given. "I see" There weren't any announcements being made however, and no alarms were being sounded so it couldn't have been another Angel attack, he shuddered at the possibility. So what could it be?

* * *

Nothing alarming it turned out later on. Just tests and familiarization with the EVA unit. An exercise where the new pallet rifle would be used with the EVA on a simulated battlefield against Angels. He translated his instructions to action and a brief flash of light indicated the success of that action. 

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

The entry plug, once warm and soothing, felt cold now.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

He was beginning to associate it and the EVA with pain.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

His first attempt at piloting it had resulted in more physical pain he had ever known in his life. More than what most children his age would ever experience either short of a death blow.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

And not only did he suffer; he had caused others to suffer.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

A girl crushed, her life possibly ruined.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

Her brother, driven to the depths of despair and anger.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

But he was needed

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

"**You saved this city Shinji"**

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

Could he save the city again? And avoid harming others? He didn't know.

But he wouldn't hurt another person. Not if he could help it.

A video link appeared just outside of his primary view screen. Misato was on the other end. "Shinji? We're done for now. You can stop now."

Releasing the finger from the trigger, Shinji released a small sigh and laid back on his seat. There had been no pain. Not this time and nothing beyond the initial nausea caused by the LCL. But it was just training. Combat training. That meant he would have to fight again wouldn't it? Fight against another of those Angels. Fight, to hurt, to be hurt and perhaps.....to die. The internal heating system kept him warm, but the shudder that coursed through his frame had nothing to do with the temperature. _I may die. If I do, will he care?_ He doubted it. He still yearned for that recognition, that one gesture of acknowledgement of their relationship that never came. Although that yearning had been blunted somewhat over the years, thanks in no small part to that letter he kept hidden in the cello case and the brief time he had spent with the writer.

But that time was long since past. Now he had a new life of sorts. A new beginning. But it felt like coming a full circle. It was a......balance of sorts. He had been rejected by one hand and was accepted by another, almost the same as that distant rain soaked day. Amidst the draining LCL, Shinji found himself surprised at that somewhat philosophical thought.

But there would be no more time for that line of thought. Not now. The EVA was secured in the hanger, the entry plug drained of LCL and he would have to leave soon. With a hiss, the hatch opened and he stepped out, the remnants of LCL dripping from his plug suit and hair even as it rapidly congealed in the air into a yellow sticky mess. Even without his fastidious nature, most people would have considered the rapidly drying mass of goo to be most unsanitary, to say the least. _I need a shower._ He sniffed at one patch that clung with vicarious insistency to his arm, wrinkling his nose at the strong coppery scent. _The smell is even worst when it dries._ Now he wanted to clean it off even more.

Indeed, he was heading towards the showers, there were no instructions to the contrary and he already knew where they were from his brief tour of the place.

Life on the other hand, had different plans.

Floating over the coastal waters of Japan, a massive object flew on a slow, yet steady course towards Tokyo-3. From the side, one could be forgiven for thinking it looked like a huge squid, bereft of its tentacles. But this was no squid. No squid was that large, nor did it have that kind of color. Squids didn't fly either. But most importantly of all, it possessed an AT-field which protected it completely from the coastal batteries that opened fire on it the moment it was in range. The combined firepower that would have turned any number of squid into so much seafood were simply brushed aside like bothersome gnats that the bitten couldn't be bothered to swat.

Shamshel had arrived. And with it, the promise of more pain for a fragile young boy.

That shower would have to wait.

* * *

END OF CHAPTER 07 

A/N: Eh? What's that you say? Touji never kicked Shinji? Of course he never did. That was in the anime and manga where Shinji kept his mouth shut, never dodged the first blow and certainly didn't enrage Touji. How come he dodged the first blow? That's easy to answer. He was half expecting it. So you see? A subtle change, a small shift, and sometimes, you can end up on some very distant roads.


	9. 08: Gestation

**Disclaimer: A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away….**

**NEON GENESIS EVANGELION**

**It is a desperate time for the fanfic writer's alliance. The empire of Gainax, led by Emperor Anno's right hand man, Darth Lawsuit, has managed to destroy many writers legally. Out-moneyed and out-lawyered, the alliance is gambling on one final solution to stop Darth Lawsuit. A tiny thing called, a disclaimer.**

_Thoughts_

"Speech"

**Unintended Consequences 08: Empathy**

Central Dogma: NERV command Center

It began with the detection of a blue pattern. That was how NERV usually detected angels before they could see them. AT fields caused a distinct distortion in the very air that surrounded their carriers. Energy simply bent around the field or was deflected away and physical objects either bounced off the impenetrateable field or smashed themselves harmlessly against it. The very air itself shimmered as it came into contact with AT fields as they were brushed aside. It was the perfect defense. But it was also a very visible one. Exploiting the energy distortion properties of the AT field, the MAGI supercomputers could triangulate the source once it entered the NERV sensor grid.

The next step of course was to go into a full alert. Hidden weapons emplacements and mobile batteries opened fire on the angel, sending a tremendous amount of ordnance at the intruder which would have utterly destroyed a lesser foe. With its AT field though, the weapons might as well have stayed silent as it continued to glide silently forwards, ignoring both the explosions that rippled along its flank and the weapons that caused said explosions.

The expenditure of billions of Yen in armaments to no visible effect did not go unnoticed however. General Yamasaki had watched the entire affair from his command station at the Asagiri military base. As the battle progressed, a rather large vein began to throb with increasing intensity. _Just look at that._ He was supposed to present his case to the assembled ministers at the end of this year to convince them not to cut the military's budget. It was already pitiful. But with the black hole that was NERV, he didn't see how he could prevent them from reducing his funding to just spare change and pocket money. And then there was this. What good were all those weapons being used for if they produced no effect?? Why the hell was NERV wasting all that perfectly good money on pretty fireworks?? Gendo had rubbed his nose in the firmly mud by showing how he could beat one of those angels with his oversized toy when the JSSDF couldn't scratch it with their best weapons so why was he using those same weapons again? To demonstrate the ineffectiveness of those weapons? To rub his nose in even more mud and waste whatever miniscule amounts of the budget that remained???!!!! He picked up his phone and angrily dialed in the secure number that only he and a few high ranking officials knew of.

* * *

Kozou Fuyutsuki put down the receiver, his expression not giving away a thing. "They want us to stop wasting taxpayers' money and launch a sortie." There was no need to label who 'they' were. It was the official communications line and the list of people who could use it was pitifully short. His ear still rung from the rather heated demand that had been sent through the speaker. _Impressive lung capacity indeed._ He did not think General Yamasaki had drawn breath from the moment he had picked up the receiver until he had hung up. And he had been listening to that man harangue him for the better part of 3 minutes.

There wasn't really much that needed to be done for the sortie. Upon the detection of the angel, the emergency announcements had gone out well before its heading could be determined. Of course nobody but Gendo, the SEELE council and he knew why the angels always headed there but no one had ever raised a question of why before. Not that the NERV staff wasn't intelligent enough to ever wonder why but they were wiser than to ask a question that there certainly wouldn't be any answers for them. Even if the reason why they wouldn't have answers was more the province of certain men rather than the angels themselves.

All that needed to be done now was for young Shinji to pilot the EVA once more.

He wondered if he was up to it. Based on every recording they had of his first flight and subsequent fight, Shinji had been subjected to severe trauma that exceeded critical levels. Even if the injuries weren't real, the sheer shock the phantom pain introduced into the system would have been enough to kill some people. He couldn't blame him if he no longer wanted to pilot it.

But wants, as life has a habit of showing, usually go unfulfilled. Here in NERV, a want was no more than wishful thinking. Only the plan for Instrumentality remained a constant. All else was…..irrelevant.

A rueful shake of the head followed that observation. _I become more and more like Gendo everyday. _

_And I may be damned for it._

* * *

When the alarms went off, Touji moved with mechanical precision towards his designated shelter. While he was still angry at the new kid, there was no reason for him to get killed over it. _Damned kid. Stomping around in that robot like he owns the place._ As unfair as the thought was, given the fact that he had not observed the fight in its entirety, he would not relent in his dislike for Shinji. As the doors boomed shut behind him and the locks closed with a hiss of hydraulics, he was among the last group to arrive, his eyes saw people sleeping, chatting, eating and generally finding ways to pass the time until the all-clear signal had been given. One of the more unique ones was Kensuke as he fiddled with his omnipresent video camera.

Where the others had bored, impatient or frightened faces, Kensuke's was one that shone with barely suppressed eagerness. He and Kensuke shared a close friendship originally borne of mutual gain that had grown into a brotherly bond. That was not to say that Touji wouldn't put Kensuke in a headlock if the otaku threaded on areas that were beyond what he considered acceptable, or embarrassing, but they had more or less settled into an amicable friendship. In that relation though, Touji usually adopted the role of the elder brother, often annoyed, and at the same time amused, by the antics of the overly bright smart ass younger sibling. They'd gotten familiar with the quirks of each other's behaviors over the years.

That was why Touji mentally suppressed a sigh when he saw that look on Kensuke's face. He _knew_ that look. It was one that usually promised a great deal of recklessness in the pursuit of his latest obsession. Last time he had nearly gotten them shot when he had somehow agreed to follow him into the local military airbase in the hopes of getting some pictures of some new JSSDF jet. They had gotten caught early on and they certainly caught holy hell when they were returned to their respective parents with a military escort. Kensuke of course was undeterred, insisting that the next time he would succeed.

He wondered what he was up to this time.

And whether they would survive it.

* * *

Shinji couldn't decide which was worst. Breathing in something that very much smelled and tasted like blood or the fact that he was breathing in a liquid to begin with. Both notions nauseated him if he thought about it. Or maybe it was the fact that it clung to him so heavily that every time he left the entry plug he smelled like something that had rolled around in a charnel house. Whatever the case was though, he once again found himself submerged in the liquid, trying his best to calm the roiling sea within his stomach, while he awaited the order to sortie.

An angel.

Not a divine being of benevolent intentions.

But rather, another malevolent creature of fearsome proportions in Tokyo-3

To accomplish what he did not know.

Except that destruction and terror were most probable given how the last one behaved.

And he was supposed to fight it in an equally immense machine which still responded sluggishly to his commands.

The other students had all thought it was exciting and cool to be pilot an EVA. To be truthful, he was scared spitless. The one encounter he had with a real Angel had proven to be very painful. Something in his face must have shown the worry though for Misato spoke to him from the command center.

"Don't worry Shinji. Just remember your training and everything will be fine."

Despite the upbeat image she had tried to project, Shinji still felt the gnawing teeth of doubt attempt to convince his breakfast that the best place to be would be floating around in the LCL rather than in his stomach. _She's not the one sitting in here._ He thought bitterly before he stopped himself. She had placed her confidence on him and had to a degree, even cared for him. After all, you don't invite someone to stay in your home if you don't care for them. Don't you?

_There are people counting on me._

Normally this line of thought would have elated him. People needed him. He was wanted. Even if it was only because he could pilot this EVA. But a memory flashed into existence that quashed that feeling. It was the enraged scowl of a black clad boy who was brutalizing him even as he vented his anger. He had crippled that boy's sister. His ribs still ached at the memory of Touji's fury.

…_her life is ruined because of me…_

It was with that thought that he found the resolve to fight this new foe. Oh, his heart still thundered in his chest and his breakfast was performing cartwheels but with the recklessness of his youth, he resolved to ensure that no one else would ever be hurt in the battles where he sat behind the controls of an EVA. A reckless, foolish resolve, but he needed something to hold on to. Something that would keep away the utter despair that memory caused. The memories of his failures.

"Unit-01, launch"

Caught not paying attention, Shinji found he was unprepared for the sudden acceleration that pushed down heavily on him. Fortunately, his one previous experience in such a manner of departure meant that he was able to keep his mouth shut the entire time and not hurt himself. During that rapid ascent though, his heart thundered in its bony prison and if not submerged in LCL, he would have been sure he would be sweating bullets. _Stay calm, stay calm. I just have to remember my training._ It was unfortunate for him that only one aspect of his training came readily to his mind though.

**Sight the center. Pull the trigger.**

Like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver, he siezed that thought. Focusing on it and blocking out all else.

_300 meters_

_Concentrate! _His breathing became ragged.

_200 meters_

Pupils widened, increasing his all round vision.

_100 meters_

The only sound he could hear was the roar of blood racing through his system and the jackhammer thunder of his heart.

_0 meters_

_NOW!_ The exit panel slid downwards and the EVA leaped out, rifle at the ready as its AT field parted the air and neutralized the angels own field.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

He saw it. The angel. The target. The center.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

The rifle roared, a steady stream of high explosive shells lancing out.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

The aim was true, shells finding their mark, detonations erupting all over the angel.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

Smoke from the explosions began to swirl and race madly around the angel. Still the gun fired. A rain of death.

_Sight the center. Pull the trigger_.

The angel was gone now, a tower of black smoke billowing lazily where it stood. His ragged breathing a breathy counterpoint to the hollow "click" of the now empty rifle. Still he did not let go of the trigger. _Did I do it_?

He didn't

Glowing whips lashed out, each as wide as a subway train, reaching for the EVA with alarming speed. He did the only thing he could. He leaped back.

It wasn't very nearly enough.

With no more resistance than it did passing through the air, the energy whips sliced through the rifle and burned a line across the EVA's chest. Shinji reflexively let go of the rifle at the burning sensation, not that it was of any use anymore, being in several large fragments, and hopped a few steps back.

Emerging from the smoke, the angel advanced lazily. Sinuous tendrils hissed through the air like restless snakes, tortured air boiling away from its blazing form. Vaguely, Shinji was aware of Misato speaking to him over the communications channel. Something about a new rifle. He didn't pay much attention to her or a blur that moved in his peripheral vision as the tendrils lashed out again, this time not to strike, but to ensnare. Desperately, Shinji leaped back, hoping to avoid the whips like he did previously.

He wasn't fast enough.

Shinji found himself ironically thankful for the first punch that Touji had given him. It had given him a taste of what being tossed on the floor was. Which while grossly expanded on a scale he would never experience otherwise, was what was happening now. Ok, flying through the skyscrapers was something new as well as losing his power cord but the landing part was more or less the same. The jarring impact which rattled his teeth, the haziness of his sight just after landing. It was all very much the same. It hurt too. A lot.

And it was going to hurt quite a bit more.

Reaching the city limits, the angel picked up the hapless pilot once more and hurled it him distantly into the air.

* * *

Kensuke was happy. No, he was ecstatic. No, there were simply no words to describe it. There it was, NERV's brand new toy, the long rumored Evangelion. A 40 storey tall engine of destruction that could be piloted by a single man. The fact that it was a robot made it all the better. And he was getting it on tape! He! Kensuke Aida! Otaku master, electronics genius and master of the school information network was getting the titanic battle between the pinnacle of human technology and alien being. The only non-NERV person to ever do it! He must have been a saint in his previous life he decided if the heavens had decided to reward him with something like this. The only thing that could ever be better would be to actually be in one. Although it did kind of look like the EVA was on the losing side right now. _No matter,_ he decided. _I could definitely be better at it._ Unaware of the downsides of being a pilot, not to mention the rather disturbed mentality of the one he had met, he continued to film the one-sided fight, proving the old adage that ignorance is bliss.

Touji on the other hand, wasn't overly impressed. While he knew that the his sister was well protected, due to the fact that the hospital she resided in was a key structure, hence benefiting from the elevator system that brought it beneath the surface, the sheer damage that the improvised club A.K.A. EVA was doing to the surrounding terrain didn't seem to hold much hope for everything and everyone else. Particularly when you consider the fact that the EVA was losing to the angel about as badly he was when he took on a school bully twice his height and weight in his junior years. _Damn stupid kid. Why doesn't he fight back? He's going to get thrashed this way._ Not that he was concerned about the pilot mind you, only that the damage being done to the city was definitely on the rise. Yes, that was his only concern. A sudden shift in the battle and its direction though, forced his thoughts to the here and now.

* * *

There was something about flying that Shinji liked. Maybe it was the sensation of floating in the air. Maybe it was the freedom. Maybe it was the way that the clouds above seemed so peaceful, so serene when compared to the angst filled story of his life. Yes. That was most likely it. When he was in the air, it seemed like there was nothing to worry about, nothing that would add to the tragedy that he was living.

Of course he was falling right about now.

Falling from a rather high altitude.

Falling from a high altitude in a multi-storey, multi ton, humanoid war machine that had just received the thrashing of its service life and was transferring all that pain to him.

Maybe flying wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

* * *

_Stay calm. Stay calm._ That was the collective thoughts of Touji and Kensuke as they watched the rather large and threatening shadow of a rather large, and presumably very heavy, EVA tracing the end of its trajectory. Naturally, panicking wouldn't do much good, so like the mature teenagers they are, they tried to stay calm and think of something to save their lives. They hadn't thought of something yet but they did notice however, that the EVA did appear to be fast approaching their location.

On a steep downward angle.

_I'M GONNA DIE!! I'M GONNA DIE!!_

Ok, maybe they weren't that mature and they certainly weren't thinking of something to save their lives. That is unless you include praying to a pantheon of gods and twelve minor deities, not to mention their long departed ancestors, to be saved as well as screaming at the top of their lungs. Touji's voice in particular reached a pitch that he would, at less dire times, scorned as 'girly'.

The world went black as the EVA blocked the sun.

_Fine! See if I ever pray again!_

Fortunately for them, someone was listening, or perhaps they were positioned just right or were protected because they were needed to further the plot. Whatever the case, they didn't suffer a terminal drop in height as the EVA landed right next to them rather than right on them. _Just kidding! Really._

* * *

Shinji found himself to be in a rather unique position of power. Here he was, sitting, lying actually, in an armored behemoth capable of dealing death and destruction unlike anything mankind had ever made and right between the fingers of its left hand was one boy who had tormented him earlier that day and his friend. Most 14 year olds would have considered at least some form of revenge ranging from petty to murderous. The rest of them would be more interested in the closing angel and dealing with it before it dealt with them.

Shinji, being your guilt driven, angst filled teenager, was filled with remorse instead. He had scared them badly. Very badly if the small pool of liquid in front of their pants was any clue. And he had crippled the sister of Touji as well. _I won't run away. I'll make it right somehow. _With his resolve filled like a mighty wave, well a ripple actually but in his case it was an improvement, he grabbed the energy tendrils with his hands, accepting the pain while opening the hatch and removing the entry plug. With the hatch open, he used the external speakers to urge them in.

15 seconds and one headlock later, he was wondering if he had made a mistake somewhere. Kensuke was off wailing about his camera while Touji was doing his best to cut of Shinji's air while yelling in his ear. It was hard to tell with the black spots dancing before his vision and the ringing in his ears.

Fortunately for all of them, Kensuke had managed to regain his senses long enough to convince Touji that killing the pilot, however inadvertently, would be detrimental to their long term health. This was emphasized when Shinji's concentration broke momentarily, allowing the energy tendril to lightly burn the eye of the Evangelion with a brief slap. Having experienced what it felt like to suffer lobotomy through an eye without the benefit of anesthesia, the brief burning sensation that to Shinji were easily borne.

Not so with the other two occupants who were rather concerned with the wellbeing of their respective eye.

Freed from the death grip, Shinji managed to gather the EVA's arms together and hurl the angel backwards, giving him some respite to rise from the ground.

"Shinji, follow route B-12 and regroup. Withdraw for now."

_No._ He couldn't. _I won't run away._ "I'll finish it now"

"Shinji! Listen to me! Withdraw!"

_I won't run away anymore._ The thought echoed softly in his mind.

_I mustn't fail._ He withdrew the progressive knife from its hidden sheath, letting the vibroblade fill the air with the hum of thousands of cycles per second.

_I won't fail._ He charged, running, sliding down the hill towards the waiting angel.

**25 seconds**

_I won't let anyone get hurt anymore._ The angel lashed out, its tendrils blazing forward like striking snakes.

**20 seconds**

_I won't let them down._ The tendrils penetrated the abdomen of the EVA, punching out through the back, stopping the behemoth just before the angel.

**15 seconds**

_No more._ A pain filled, rage crazed voice filled the plug and radio airwaves. It was his voice.

The EVA lunged forward, vibroblade sinking into the bright red core but not penetrating fully.

**10 seconds**

_It ends._ The next moment was the hardest in Shinji's life. As if sensing its imminent death, the tendrils blazed with terrible heat, actually melting away the surrounding area. Shinji howled.

**5 seconds**

_It ends now._ Deep within his psyche, anger that had long been suppressed rose, fueling the urgent need to kill the angel.

**4 seconds**

Touji, brutalizing him on the school fields, rage in his eyes.

**3 seconds**

Fujiwara, dying in a fireball to protect him, slate eyes a combination of fear and worry.

**2 seconds**

His foster family, empty smiles and hateful eyes.

**1 second**

His father, cold eyes behind amber glass, leaving him. Leaving him alone. Always alone.

**CRAAAACK**

The core broke, lines spidering across its surface as the knife sank deep, the light finally dying within.

"You did it man. You killed it" Vaguely, he was aware that he was panting, unblinking eyes staring straight ahead. Somebody's hand was on his shoulder. _Touji's hand_ he thought. He sounded worried, as if somehow sharing the pain of EVA, he somehow felt and empathized with his pain, willing to forego his rage and anger in the light of a new understanding. Shinji didn't care. The angel was dead.

That was all that mattered.

* * *

END OF CHAPTER 08

A/N: Well, not too much of a change here right? Well, it's necessary. We see a rather different road down in the near future and this setting is needed. So sit tight and let's see what the next one is like eh?


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